


My Sweet Memory

by DestielWS



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Amnesia, Amnesiac Castiel, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Castiel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rimming, Undead Castiel, more tags to be added later, non established relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-09-07 14:39:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 34,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8804776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielWS/pseuds/DestielWS
Summary: Fifteen years ago, Dean's beloved boyfriend, Castiel, died. Every day since then, Dean's visited his grave after work, no matter the weather or how tired he was or any condition. But on this night, Castiel was brought back to life, but has no memory of who he is. He remembers life and basic tasks, but lost anything and everything unique to him. And it's up to Dean to help him remember who he was... and get him to stop talking like he just walked out of a commercial from 2001.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, when I said, "long fic" I didn't intend it to be 70 fucking chapters long, but well...whoops shit. My actual novel's only 34. 
> 
> There will be the kinky porn everyone's here for, but that won't be for quite a ways in, so never fear - I'll keep posting the good shit on the side since I'll be writing the chapters for this ahead of time. I'll be posting weekly on Fridays or Saturdays or sometime around the weekend. I'm not perfect and sometimes shit happens, but I'll try and be consistent.
> 
> If you have no clue what the good shit is, then know that people will be peeing themselves in this. Multiple times. And sometimes frequently. Though, if you're willing to skim the plot-related occasions, the extraneous plot-irrelevant porn will be tagged. Adversely, if you just want the good shit and the other 55 chapters be damned, I'll have a list of what chapters to go to.

“I miss the good old days,” Dean grimaced, turning the radio off in his car as he drove down the bumpy road. The Impala bounced and rocked along the narrow street, in need of some serious upkeep and littered in potholes.

 

Dean slowed to a park and pulled the car up to the sidewalk, scowling as a tire fell into a dip and left him parked at an awkward angle. Not having the effort to care to adjust, he shut the car off and pocketed his keys, walking towards the entrance to the graveyard.

 

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” the groundskeeper said, having been waiting by the entrance.

 

“Thanks for keeping the place open for me,” Dean said, patting him on the shoulder as he walked by.

 

“You haven’t missed a day in fourteen years,” he replied. “I know better than to close without having seen you first.”

 

“Fifteen,” Dean muttered.

 

“What?” The groundskeeper asked.

 

“Fifteen. It’s been fifteen years today,” Dean stated. “And of course of all days, traffic had to be the worst. I didn’t have time to get flowers.”

 

“I don’t think he’ll hold it against you,” The groundskeeper stated.

 

“I know he wouldn’t,” Dean frowned. “But it’s such a small, insignificant thing, and I can’t even do that for him.”

 

The other man bent over and gave Dean some bright yellow flowers from a nearby grave. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

 

Dean snorted as he resumed walking.

 

“Well, I gotta finish locking up, but when you’re done, let me know. You know where to find me,” he replied.

 

“Yeah. Thanks.” Dean half-smiled at him as they parted ways, Dean walking quickly in the same direction he was going.

 

He didn’t need to even look anymore. He’d walked the path so many times he could get there blind. He knew it was exactly 273 steps from the entrance. He didn’t even know how he knew that - he must have counted at one point.

 

Dean sat down on the grass next to a grave marked only with a small plaque - it was all Dean could afford. The family was all too distraught to process what had happened to help, so Dean had to do everything by himself.

 

He brushed the grass and dust off of the stone plaque and then set the flowers down in front of it.

 

_James Castiel “Cas” Novak_

_March 3_ _ rd _ _1978 - November 12_ _ th _ _2001_

_Beloved Son and Partner_

 

“Sorry, I’m late,” Dean sighed, turning to lay down in the grass next to the grave. He paused for a moment as if waiting for a response. “Traffic was a bitch. I didn’t have time to get you anything so, I stole the flowers.”

 

Dean laid in silence for a minute before continuing. “Can you believe it’s been 15 years? I can’t. So much has changed you wouldn’t believe it.” Dean exhaled slowly and stared up at the darkening sky. “I mean everything. We could get married anytime we wanted today. You can get everything from the internet. I mean laptops weigh less than a pound and fit in your bag and phones are sleek and barely half an inch thick.”

 

“You know this already, though. I mean I’ve talked about it all at this point.” Dean chuckled bitterly. “You know the music nowadays is fucking stupid. I miss the classics. I mean what the fuck is a whip and a nae nae?”

 

Dean sighed and squeezed the grass beneath his hands, imagining the thin blades were Cas’s fingers reaching up and holding his hand in return.

 

“I miss, you know. I’ve been to therapy and hypnotists and everything. I can’t get away from you, Cas,” Dean said, choking a little. “I’m never going to get over you. You were so young and full of joy and I never loved anyone like I loved you… And fifteen years later, you’re still dead and I’m just a bitter man, growing old with grief.”

 

Dean started crying, tears sliding down his face as he laid on the grass. “I want you back, Cas,” he whimpered, rolling over onto his stomach on top of the grave, his face lingering above the small plaque.

 

Then, Dean heard something. It was quiet. Like a fly buzzing. Then he felt it. The ground started shaking. “Oh God if I’m about to die in an earthquake, I am okay with that,” he moaned, staying where he was laying. The ground shook more and more until the earth was shaking violently beneath him. Wind started blowing around him, leaves and flowers and various small particles swirling about. Dean pulled himself off the ground and stood up looking around.

 

“What the hell is this?” Dean breathed, the wind getting stronger and stronger until

 

_CRACK._

 

A bright lightning bolt blinded Dean, and he stumbled back from the grave, hands in front of his face. He gasped in shock and in slight fear, unsure of what was happening - that weather changes like this just don’t happen here. The light faded as quickly as it came and Dean opened his eyes. There was dust everywhere, so he pulled his shirt up over his mouth and coughed a little, using his free hand to swat the dust out of his eyes.

 

He just stood and waited, the dust and dirt dissipating enough that he could finally see again. Where the lightning had struck was a very discernible opening in the ground. Right down the center of Cas’s grave was a gaping crack. “Whoa.” Dean breathed, looking into it, but it was too dark to see anything. Dean dropped his shirt from his mouth finally and looked down into the crevice some more.

 

“What the hell was that?” The groundskeeper exclaimed, running over to Dean.

 

“I don’t know. There was some kind of weather phenomenon. The wind and the earth and I don’t know,” Dean replied, kind of panicked about the whole situation.

 

The groundskeeper looked around at the toppled headstones and one of the trees and sighed. “I do not get paid enough for this god damn job.”

 

“Hey!” Someone cried. The voice was harsh and rough and quiet. “Hello?”

 

“What the fuck…” Dean muttered, looking into the hole again. “Is someone down there?”

 

“Yes!” They replied. “Please, get me out of here!”

 

“Okay freaky weather I can deal with. People living in my dead boyfriend’s grave? I can not.” Dean scoffed, digging through his phone. With shaky hands he held a flashlight into the crevice. There was indeed someone down there.

 

Whoever it was, was a mystery though. They had their hands shielding their face from the light and were covered head to toe solid in dust.

 

“I’m gonna get you some help, okay? I’m going to call 9-1-1,” Dean stated, turning the light off and fumbling with the call function on his phone.

* * *

 

The ground around the crack had been hit away with chisels with precision to open it up wide enough for someone to get down and bring up the man stuck in there. Dean knew it wasn’t Cas. That wasn’t his voice. But _who in the hell was in his boyfriend’s grave_?

 

A fireman equipped to help with extraction buckled himself onto a thick rope and stepped off the edge of the crevice and into the hole. Slowly, the rope began extending so he lowered into it. After a few minutes, he called up that he was ready and the rope started reeling back in.

 

Everyone stood in concern and awe at the events of the night, waiting to see what was going to come up from the hole. The bright yellow of the fireman’s hard hat was visible. And then his head. And then someone else’s head. People started whispering and murmuring as the man covered in dirt looked around, the whites of his eyes in stark contrast with the unsaturated brown covering his body.

 

“No,” Dean whimpered, backing away from him. “No, no, no. This is impossible.”

 

“What?” The gardener frowned. “Someone living in his grave?”

 

“No one was living in his grave,” Dean breathed. “That’s James Castiel Novak. In the flesh.”

 

“That’s not possible, Dean,” he replied. “I think you might just be in shock.”

 

“That is my dead boyfriend. You think I wouldn’t forget every single aspect of what he looked like after fifteen years?” Dean argued. “That is James Castiel Novak.”

 

The groundskeeper looked at him skeptically as Dean watched from afar.

 

The firefighter set him on the ground and Castiel looked around quizzically. He winced a little at the bright lights being shown down the hole to get him around and just stood silently, but finally croaked out a single word. “Water.”

 

“Get him some water!” The man in charge ordered.

 

Firemen around made noises of agreement and within seconds, Cas was being handed an open bottle of water. Cas raised it to his lips and drank it all in one go, a fireman taking the empty bottle from him.

 

“Thank you,” Cas said quietly, clearing his throat a little. He was shaky and scared, unsure of what was going on. He looked down at himself and then looked around. “Does anyone have any clothes?”

 

The air was tense as firemen took no time in disrobing to at least give him a heavy jacket to cover himself with.

 

“What’s your name?” One of the firemen asked.

 

“My name? It’s… I don’t know,” Cas sighed. “I don’t know what my name is.”

 

“I think we should get you to a doctor and get you looked at,” he stated.

 

“No.” Cas shook his head. “Is this… Is this Hell?”

 

“Hell?” Another fireman laughed. “This isn’t Hell.”

 

“It has to be,” Cas said. “I was in Heaven. I was happy. I was okay. And now I’m coughing up dirt in a hole in… is this a grave yard?”

 

“Listen, bud. I think you should come see that doctor,” the first fireman said. “This isn’t Hell and whatever you were doing down in that hole sure isn’t Heaven.”

 

“I want to go back to Heaven!” Cas yelled, looking around in panic.

 

“James,” Dean stated loudly.

 

Everyone turned to look at him in confusion.

 

“That’s your name,” Dean said. “James.”

 

“Do you know him?” The man in charge asked, coming over to him.

 

Dean nodded slowly. “That man is James Castiel Novak. He was my boyfriend, but he died in 2001.”

 

“My name isn’t James,” Cas argued.

 

“How do you know?” Dean countered.

 

“Because, I know it’s not me,” Cas huffed indignantly.

 

“You just had to get hoisted out of a grave. You’re naked covered in dirt and don’t know your name. I don’t think you know what is and isn’t you.” the commander said.

 

“I know James isn’t your name,” Dean continued.

 

“But you just said it was,” Cas replied.

 

“Well, it _is_ your name. But you don’t use it,” Dean stated, walking slowly towards him. “Your name is Cas. You were born March 3rd, 1978. You’ve got two siblings, one brother and one sister, and two parents. You were born in Boise, Idaho. You like riding bikes and drawing and you love animals and you love people.”

 

“How do you know that?” Cas asked.

 

“Am I right?” Dean argued.

 

“I don’t know about the family and bike stuff, but Cas is my name,” he stated, with a small nod. “That’s my name. How come you know that?”

 

“Because in 2001, when you died, you left me behind,” Dean stated. “Your gravestone right there says you’re a beloved son and partner. You were my partner.”

 

“This is a bit much for me, right now,” Cas sighed. “I want to go home.”

 

“Where’s home?” the chief of the firemen asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Cas answered.

 

“Home is with me,” Dean said.

 

“I don’t know you,” Cas protested.

 

“I know you. That should stand for something,” Dean replied. “Come back to my house and you can take a warm shower and get something to eat and I can give you clothes. Let me take care of you just for the night and tomorrow you can choose what you want to do.”

 

Cas stared blank and unsure at him.

 

“Son, as much as you’d like it to be true, your dead boyfriend isn’t back from the dead,” the chief intervened.

 

“Yes, he is. I think I know my boyfriend when I see him,” Dean stated.

 

“People don’t come back from the dead,” he frowned.

 

“I know that. But he just did,” Dean said. “I don’t know how, but I’m not going to question it. Let me take him with me and in the morning when he’s calm you can test his DNA and prove it.”

 

The commander sighed and looked over at the group of firemen under his charge. “Fine. But I’m going to need to take down your address, phone number, emergency contact, and see your ID.”

 

“Do you want to come with me? I promise I just want to help you,” Dean asked softly, turning back to a shivering Cas.

 

“I don’t know you,” Cas reiterated.

 

“It’s either me or a hospital room,” Dean said.

 

“You didn’t let me finish,” Cas snapped. “I don’t know you, but I feel like I can trust you. At least on this.”

 

“You’re not totally a lost cause, apparently,” Dean smirked.

* * *

 

After a quick check on his vitals, Cas was allowed to go back to Dean’s for the night. He wasn’t completely sure what was going on yet - but no one really was.

 

“So, this is where I live. It’s not big, but it’s what I can afford. I’m just renting it,” Dean said quietly, pushing open the door to the house.

 

“Okay,” Cas replied.

 

“Let me show you where the bathroom is so you can get all this off you real quick,” Dean continued, locking the door behind them and then taking Cas’s arm to lead him towards the bathroom. “This is the only one with a shower, but there’s a smaller bathroom for guests that has just a toilet and a sink.”

 

“Okay,” Cas repeated.

 

“Alright, here you go,” Dean stated, pushing open the door to the bathroom. Dean went over to the shower and gestured for Cas to follow him.

 

Cas stood behind him silently and looked at him blankly. Dean turned around and met his awkward gaze and sighed quietly.

 

“Okay, so. This turns on the water.” Dean pulled the lever out from the faucet and water began running. “Turn the lever this way to make it hotter, and this way to make it colder. Got it?”

 

“Yes,” Cas replied.

 

“Awesome. So these are here are the shampoo and conditioner. You wet your hair, put some shampoo in there, rinse it out, put some conditioner in, then rinse that out. And then the soap, you use that and rub it all over yourself and it gets you clean,” Dean explained. He looked back up at Cas and Cas was staring at him with narrowed eyes. “What?”

 

“I’m not an idiot. I know how to wash my hair, Dan.” Cas frowned.

 

“Oh. Alright. Sorry.” Dean laughed awkwardly. “And my name’s Dean. Not Dan.”

 

“Dean then,” Cas amended, sticking his hand under the water to test the temperature.

 

“Well, I’ll put some of my clothes out on the bed for you to put on once you’re done. Take all the time you want. I’ll just be watching TV,” Dean stated.

 

“Mhm.” Cas nodded. “Thanks.”

* * *

 

Cas finished with his shower and got dressed and went back out into the living area where Dean was half-asleep on the couch, staring through the TV - not quite actually watching it.

 

“Dean?” Cas said quietly, tapping him gently on the shoulder.

 

Dean jumped to alertness and looked up at him. “Not being covered in dirt does you well.”

 

Cas nodded at him and smiled slightly. “Do you have anything to eat?”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Of course!” Dean replied, standing up and going over to the kitchen area, Cas following behind him. “Feel free to help yourself to anything. What’s mine is yours.”

 

“Are you sure?” Cas asked. “I mean, I’m essentially a stranger.”

 

“You’re not a stranger. Maybe I’m a stranger to you, but you’re not a stranger to me,” Dean replied, opening the fridge. “There’s soda, water, milk, and of course beer to drink. There’s cereal up top in those cabinets, all the other cabinets are pots and pans and glasses - things seldom used and gathering dust - and then that tall closet there has all sorts of things - chips, cookies, seasonings, a few soups, and the bread.”

 

“Do you have any… ice cream?” Cas responded.

 

“Ice cream,” Dean drawled.

 

“Yes,” Cas nodded. “I have a craving.”

 

“Yeah, I have ice cream. I don’t have the kind you like, but it’s ice cream,” Dean answered, opening the small compartment above the refrigerator and revealing a freezer. “It’s that three flavor stuff - vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry.”

 

“What flavor ice cream do I like?” Cas asked, reaching in and taking the tub from the freezer.

 

“Mint chocolate chip,” Dean replied.

 

“Ooh,” Cas breathed. “That does sound delicious.”

 

“I can get some tomorrow for you?” Dean offered.

 

“Why would you do that?” Cas scoffed, popping the lid off and digging his finger into the ice cream.

 

“Spoons are in the drawer right next to you,” Dean chuckled.

 

“Oh,” Cas snorted, licking his finger and pulling the drawer open.

 

“And I want you to be comfortable and have things you like here. That’s why,” Dean stated.

 

“But why? I’m only going to be here tonight, aren’t I?” Cas asked.

 

Dean’s face fell, and he stared at Cas silently.

 

“That’s what you said before, wasn’t it?” Cas prodded.

 

“Yeah,” Dean said quietly. “I just assumed once you got here you’d want to stay or something.”

 

“I mean the ice cream’s good,” Cas stated, mouth full. “But you’re a stranger to me.”

 

“Strangers stay with strangers all the time. Take AirBNB,” Dean replied.

 

“Air what?” Cas asked.

 

“Right. You wouldn’t know what that is, would you?” Dean mused. “People move in all the time with strangers to keep rent down.”

 

“Yeah but you’re assuming I want to move in with you for fun, not for financial necessity,” Cas responded.

 

“Not fun, but I mean. Have I given you a reason to go somewhere else?” Dean sighed.

 

“You’re alarmingly attached to me,” Cas stated.

 

“You’re my boyfriend,” Dean huffed.

 

“I’m your boyfriend. Apparently. You’re not mine,” Cas argued. “Can you see why this feels extremely overbearing right now?”

 

“Yes, I can,” Dean replied. “But can you understand how hard it is to be in love with someone over half your life and then have to treat them like a stranger?”

 

“No, because I’ve been dead over half your life,” Cas said. “Normal, sane people don’t stay in love with dead people and then act like nothing happened when they come back to life.”

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize there was a baseline and a standard for how to treat your undead boyfriend,” Dean drawled.

 

“When he doesn’t know you, don’t ask him to move in after a few hours,” Cas stated.

 

“My God, you dramatic little bitch,” Dean hissed.

 

“Excuse you?” Cas scoffed, glaring at him.

 

“I offered to buy you _ice cream_ and you’ve gone and lost your damn mind over it,” Dean laughed.

 

“It’s not about the ice cream. I’ll take the ice cream. But I won’t take you assuming my life for me.” Cas frowned.

 

“What life?” Dean asked. “You rose from the god damn grave tonight. You’re legally dead. You have no life.”

 

“Well I’m going to get one soon,” Cas said. “And that means I’m making my own choices. Which does not mean that just because I used to date you, that I have to live with you.”

 

“No, it doesn’t. But if I were in your position, I’d rather spend my time adjusting to modern day life with someone that loves me than on my own,” Dean said.

 

“I have family, don’t I?” Cas countered.

 

“Yes, you do. They’re all still alive. They’ll be coming to see you in a couple days,” Dean replied.

 

“So I can live with them if I want to live with someone who loves you,” Cas retorted.

 

“I have a feeling that won’t be preferable. But either way, you’re probably gonna spend your time until then here with me. Assuming you’re physically and mentally sound,” Dean stated. “So would you like some fucking ice cream tomorrow or not?”

 

“Yes,” Cas huffed, narrowing his eyes at him. “I want some fucking ice cream.”

 

“Good, now I’m going to bed,” Dean replied. “You have the bed all to yourself. I’m taking the couch.”

 

“Why? It’s your house,” Cas scoffed.

 

“I’m offering you the bed and you’re going to argue with me right now?” Dean laughed sarcastically. “Just take the god damn bed. I told you I wanted you to feel comfortable here, so that’s what I’m doing.”

 

“God, you’re cranky,” Cas mused.

 

“No shit,” Dean snorted, walking away and leaving Cas standing in the kitchen with his ice cream.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean and Cas spent the next morning in the hospital, running test after test, with all sorts of doctors coming in and checking him, observing him, poking him with all sizes of needles and contraptions and lights. Even the FBI was there to take statements and do his fingerprints to confirm identity.

 

“I don’t like this," Cas grumbled, looking over at Dean with distaste.

 

“Hey, don’t blame me. _You’re_ the one that rose from the dead," Dean snorted.

 

“Don’t say that out loud," Cas whispered. “That’s not the story we’re going with.”

 

“No one would believe it anyways," Dean stated.

 

“The crazies would. Conspiracy theorists and tin hatters," Cas argued.

 

“Yeah, because they know what’s up, right?” Dean snorted. “George Bush did 9/11.”

 

“He did?” Cas exclaimed loudly.

 

“I’m being sarcastic, dude," Dean smiled. “But who knows, really?”

 

“God, I remember 9/11 like it was yesterday," Cas breathed.

 

“It kind of was for you. You died like two months after it," Dean said.

 

“Wait, why do I remember 9/11 but not who I am?” Cas asked.

 

“I don’t know.” Dean shrugged. “Why do you remember basic English and life skills but not who you are?”

 

“Good point…” Cas muttered, looking over at all the monitors and sighing.

 

“I mean let’s not complain about it though because I’m glad we’re able to communicate and you remembered potty training," Dean said.

 

“Yeah, true," Cas cringed. “How much longer?”

 

“I don’t know. Want to see if you're allowed to go to the cafeteria and get some food with me?” Dean asked.

 

“Sure," Cas sighed.

 

“Awesome. I’ll go ask and be right back," Dean said, getting up off the chair and walking towards the exit.

 

After a few minutes, he returned. Cas was lying on the bed, eyes shut, and arm hanging off.

 

“Cas?” Dean frowned, going over to him urgently. “Cas, hey!”

 

No response.

 

Dean shook him a little and patted his cheeks with his hands. “Cas!”

 

Dean shook him harder and Cas smiled and opened one eye and then started giggling.

 

“Oh you little asshole!” Dean scowled, panting. “Don’t scare me like that.”

 

“It’s boring in here. I need some entertainment," Cas scoffed.

 

“Get up. Unhook yourself. We can go get something to eat, just have to bring it back - can’t eat it there," Dean said.

 

“Oh, goody. I’m getting tired of staring at the wall in here," Cas said.

 

“I’m more pleasant to stare at than the wall, aren’t I?” Dean grumbled.

 

“Not that with that attitude you aren’t," Cas sneered.

 

“Come on," Dean groaned, pulling him up and dragging him out of the room.

 

“Ow. Arm," Cas scoffed, pulling against Dean’s grasp.

 

“You tried to play dead on me," Dean snapped. “Excuse me if I’m tense.”

 

“Excuse you if you’re stupid. My vitals were right there," Cas argued.

 

“Sorry I didn’t think to check your vitals when I thought you were dead. Again," Dean sighed.

 

“I’m in for a rough few days, aren’t I?” Cas groaned.

 

“You have no idea, buster," Dean growled.

* * *

“This cafeteria sucks,” Cas commented, looking down at his barren plate.

 

“What do you expect?” Dean replied. “It’s not exactly in a great part of town.”

 

“I expected more than… this,” He grumbled, dipping his finger into the small pile of mac and cheese and taste testing the sauce.

 

“Hey, don’t let anyone catch you doing that!” Dean hissed. “You’re supposed to weigh it before you eat.”

 

“You are? Cafeteria food’s not free?” Cas asked.

 

“Dude, no!” Dean scoffed. “This is America. You get overcharged for everything no matter how shitty because capitalism.”

 

“Gross,” Castiel replied, frowning.

 

“Tell me about it,” Dean sneered. “I don’t even want to know how much they’re going to charge for all these tests.”

 

“You’re telling me it’s 2016 and we still have to pay crazy amounts for our healthcare?” Cas scoffed.

 

“Yep,” Dean sighed. “Though, we’re practically the only country left that does. Most places have free healthcare.”

 

“Why don’t we have it?” Cas frowned.

 

“Because the big guys up top profit too much off of us to implement it,” Dean explained.

 

“You sound bitter,” Cas said.

 

“You’d be bitter, too if you had to take out a small loan anytime you got sick,” Dean replied. “Hey, they’ve got ice cream machines over there?”

 

“Ooh! Where?” Cas squealed.

 

“Right over there.” Dean pointed at the machines and waited for Cas to follow his finger.

 

“Oh, I see them,” Cas said.

 

“Alright, I’m gonna get a little more stuff and then I’ll be over by the checkout counter,” Dean replied.

 

“Where’s that?” Cas asked.

 

“Right there,” Dean answered, pointing in another direction. “See it? The lady in the blue?”

 

“Yep," Cas nodded and began walking towards the ice cream machine.

 

An over-cooked piece of pizza and a low-fat piece of pie later, Dean met Cas at the check-out line.

 

“You ready?” He asked.

 

“Ready as one can be to go lie down and get tested,” Cas retorted.

 

“I told you no eating until we paid,” Dean whispered.

 

“How can you tell?” Cas asked.

 

“Your tongue is white,” Dean sighed. “Dumbass.”

 

“Dammit,” Cas hissed, sticking his tongue out and dragging his teeth on it to try to scrape the white off, Dean holding back laughter.

 

“Come on,” Dean said, walking up to the counter. “And put your tongue back in your mouth.”

 

Cas pulled his tongue back in and followed Dean up to the checkout counter. Dean offered a smile to the lady ringing up the lunches.

 

“Cas, put your tray on the scale,” Dean ordered.

 

“Okay,” he replied, doing as told as Dean placed his tray on the scale beside Cas’s.

 

“Your total is $17.85,” The cashier said.

 

“Alright,” Dean replied, taking out his wallet.

 

“$17.85?!” Cas screeched. “That’s a lot!”

 

“Inflation, dude,” Dean said with a chuckle and patting him on the shoulder. “Stuff’s a lot more expensive now than it was in 2001.”

 

“But that’s almost twenty bucks just for some shitty food,” Cas protested.

 

“Sorry.” Dean laughed awkwardly at the cashier who was giving Cas a dirty look as she handed Dean the change. “Cas, let’s go.”

 

Cas took his tray and Dean took his and they started walking out of the cafeteria.

 

“Not only is the dollar worth 25% less or so than it was when you died, but the prices of things have gone up, and that’s normal. Hell, gas is like $2.30 a gallon if you’re lucky,” Dean explained.

 

“I didn’t even think of that,” Cas mused.

 

“There’s a lot you’re gonna have to learn,” Dean chuckled. “So much has changed.”

 

“I imagine.” Cas nodded in agreement as they got on the elevator. “My family’s gonna have to teach me.”

 

“Maybe you should wait until you meet them before you swear yourself over to them,” Dean suggested.

 

“They’re my family,” Cas stated. “I’m sure they’re great.”

 

“Just remember, you _chose_ to be with me,” Dean replied. “You don’t choose your family.”

 

“How do I know you’re just not saying that?” Cas argued, sliding open the curtain to his room.

 

Dean sighed heavily. “I can show you pictures of us when we get back home. I also know just about everything about you, not that you know anything about yourself right now to confirm, anyways.”

 

“Pictures can be doctored,” Cas said.

 

“Castiel,” Dean said sternly. “In between finding you and bringing you here, I have not had the time to doctor Polaroids with a picture of you on there.”

 

“We’ll see,” Castiel replied, sitting on the bed with his tray and clipping his oxygen monitor back onto his finger. “My family will tell me the truth.”

 

“And I know _exactly_ what they’re going to say,” Dean muttered.

 

“We’ll see about that,” Cas finished, shoving a spoonful of sub-par mac and cheese into his mouth.

* * *

After a while, two men in suits from earlier that day entered the room once more.

 

“Initial medical tests have come back and they declare not only that you’re physically healthy, but also that all your DNA results come back to confirm that you are indeed James Novak,” one of the agents said. “And as per a fully healthy psychiatric evaluation, we’d like to take a statement on your story, find out how a living man ended up legally dead.”

 

“Alright, I’ll be honest with you,” Castiel said followed up with a sigh. “I don’t want to be here. I’m bored and I’m getting tested for all kinds of shit. Can we just do the statement here, and you follow up with me later if you need to?”

 

“Let me call my supervisor and ask,” the agent said, taking a phone from his pocket and exiting the room.

 

After a minute, he returned, slipping the phone back into the interior pocket of his jacket. “We can take a statement here, yes.”

 

“Okay, great. Thank you,” Cas replied, changing his position on the bed.

 

“Davis,” the agent said, turning towards the other agent. “You’ll be writing everything down word for word. Get out your laptop.”

 

“Yes, sir,” he responded sternly, giving a sharp nod and then taking a laptop out from a briefcase he had with him. He opened it up and typed and clicked for a minute before looking back up. “Ready, sir.”

 

The first agent approached Castiel on the bed and pulled his ID from his coat. “As you know, I’m Agent Henriksen with the FBI and this is my partner, Agent Matthews.”

 

Cas nodded as he put his badge back away.

 

“So, Mr. Novak,” Henriksen began, “Where were you for the past fifteen years?”

 

“I don’t know,” Cas replied.

 

“You don’t know?” Henriksen asked, raising his eyebrows skeptically at him.

 

“I have absolutely no clue,” Cas repeated.

 

Henriksen looked at him dubiously. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

 

“Waking up in adirty grave,” Cas said.

 

“Really? Nothing before that?” Henriksen asked.

 

“Nope,” Cas replied.

 

“Don’t remember your childhood or your parents or your girlfriend?” He continued.

 

“Nope,” Cas reiterated.

 

Henriksen sighed and looked up at the ceiling briefly. “Okay, so you wake up in a ‘dirty grave’ and that’s all you know?”

 

“Right.” Cas nodded sharply.

 

“And there’s no sign of where you might have been or done?” he asked.

 

“Not that I know of,” Cas answered.

 

“Nothing. Not a single clue what happened? Fifteen years of your life, and you have no clue?” Henriksen scoffed.

 

“Hey, if I could remember, I would,” Cas stated.

 

“How do you explain looking the exact same as you did when you allegedly died?” Henriksen asked.

 

“Do I?” Cas replied, looking down at himself. “I wouldn’t know.”

 

“Seems like you wouldn’t know much of anything,” Henriksen grumbled.

 

“I wish I did,” Cas said.

 

“Trust me, the dude’s confused,” Dean added.

 

“All I know is what Dean’s told me,” Cas stated. “Sorry, I can’t be more helpful.”

 

“Alright…” Henriksen sighed deeply once more and made a hand motion to his partner. “If you think of anything—” Henriksen pulled a card from his pocket and placed it in Cas’s hand. “—call me.”

 

“Will do,” Cas replied with a smile. “Am I free to go?”

 

“We’re done with you, yes,” Henriksen said. “As far as if you’re free to leave, I’ll send a nurse in to let you know.”

 

“Alright, thanks,” Cas said.

 

Henriksen silently nodded at him and began exiting the room, his partner quickly fumbling to get his laptop put away and follow him.

 

Shortly after, a nurse came in and told Castiel that all his results came back healthy and they have no reason to keep him for further testing. There was no real diagnosis other than sudden onset amnesia, so they had no choice but to discharge him.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean shot up from the couch at the fast, urgent knocking at the front door. “Guess who’s here?”

 

Cas followed and stood behind him and he began unlocking the door. As soon as it unlocked, the door was flung open, knocking Dean out of the way and leaving Cas to get bombarded with hugs and shrieks.

 

“Oh, my beautiful baby boy!” an older woman wept, putting sloppy, wet kisses on his face.

 

“How are you here? What the fuck?” a younger man asked.

 

“Gabriel, language!” the older woman snapped.

 

“Mom, it’s Cas!” Gabriel replied. “Excuse me for being bewildered to the point of profanity, mother.”

 

“Where’s Anna?” an older man asked.

 

“She’s in the car, still,” Gabriel scoffed. “Had to finish her makeup, so she looks presentable.”

 

“Get off him!” Anna shouted from outside. “I want my baby brother!”

 

Everyone stepped aside and Anna ran up the steps to the house and practically body slammed Cas with a hug, Cas’s arms pressed against his sides and eyes wide.

 

“Guys, I think you’re suffocating him a little,” Dean said awkwardly, prying Anna off of him. Cas ducked behind him and whispered a quiet “Thank you.”

 

“But we love you!” the mother protested. “You were dead! We missed you!”

 

“I told you, Rebecca, he wouldn’t remember you,” Dean stated.

 

“I just—” Rebecca sighed in defeat as she cried. “—thought if he saw us, he’d remember.”

 

“He doesn’t remember shit with me either and you know what I meant to him,” Dean replied.

 

“But I’m his mother!” she argued.

 

“I know you’re his mother,” Dean said. “And his father, and his brother, and his sister, and… I don’t know who you are honestly, but that doesn’t mean that he’s going to magically remember who he is just because he sees you. He rose from the goddamn dead four days ago.”

 

“Is this how God wants to torture me?” Rebecca asked. “Bring my son back to life after all this time, but have him forget me? Forget all I’ve done for him?”

 

“Are you really trying to make this about you?” Castiel scoffed, looking at her skeptically.

 

“Dude,” Gabriel snapped. “Not cool. That’s mom.”

 

“I don’t know who you are. Or any of you,” Cas said. “And I have no personal investment. I don’t know how y’all have been raised, but that woman is definitely trying to make herself the victim right now.”

 

“Castiel,” Dean hissed. “Respect your mother.”

 

“Why should I?” Cas countered. “She’s not showing me any. I was dead! And she’s acting like it’s a bad thing I’m alive again.”

 

“This is not my little James,” Rebecca whimpered, blowing her nose into a handkerchief.

 

Dean groaned to himself as he turned and hit his head against the wall of the entryway. “You all make me want to die.”

 

“What happened to being respectful?” Cas asked.

 

“She’s not _my_ mother,” Dean stated, turning back around and sighing. “Can the lot of you ever get along just _once_?”

 

“We get along all the time,” Gabriel said.

 

“No, you don’t,” Dean replied, shaking his head slowly. “So before your dear son and brother goes god damn insane, could you just slow down and introduce yourselves to him?”

 

“Introduce ourselves?” Anna scoffed. “I shouldn’t have to introduce myself to him.”

 

“Yeah, because he’s supposed to be dead. But he’s _alive_ with no memory. I don’t know about you, but I’ll take it,” Dean stated. “And Cas, for the love of God, go wash your face. There’s lipstick and tears and slobber all over you.”

 

“Ew,” Cas cringed.

 

“Tell me about it,” Dean retorted as Cas wiped his finger down his face and frowned at the stain on it.

 

“Listen,” Dean began in a sharp tone. “I am not enjoying this anymore than you are. He is an asshole, and he is sarcastic and he is not the same man I lost fifteen years ago, but if there is any chance of getting him back, the last thing he needs right now is to be overwhelmed by all of you bickering and throwing yourselves at him.”

 

“He’s our family,” Anna grumbled.

 

“Believe it or not, he’s mine, too,” Dean stated. “But if there’s any hope of him remembering who he is, he needs normalcy. Not screaming and crying and suffocating him. So everyone, pull yourself together, and introduce yourselves to him like normal fucking human beings.”

 

“You know I don’t like that language,” Rebecca said distastefully.

 

“Tough shit, ma.” Dean scoffed, Cas coming back into earshot.

 

Cas lifted his shirt and wiped his face down with his shirt to dry it off as he stopped in front of them all again.

 

“Anna, why don’t you start?” Dean suggested.

 

Anna gave him a dirty look before sighing and looking towards her brother. “Hi, Castiel. I’m Anna. I’m your sister.”

 

“Older or younger?” Cas asked.

 

“Younger,” Anna replied.

 

“Well, you don’t look it,” Cas said.

 

Dean exhaled through his teeth as he smiled over at Gabriel. “Your turn.”

 

“I’m your older brother, Cas. I’m Gabriel,” He stated.

 

“We’re related?” Cas asked.

 

“Yes,” Gabriel said. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

 

“We don’t look alike at all. You don’t look like any of us, really. Did our mom cheat on our dad with your dad?” Cas mused.

 

“Cas!” Dean snapped. “Would you _please_ try to have some manners right now?”

 

“I’ve been faithful my whole life, my word!” Rebecca protested.

 

“I take it you’re mom?” Cas asked.

 

“Yes, I’m your mother,” She huffed.

 

“At least I see the resemblance,” Cas mused.

 

“This is your father, Castiel,” Rebecca continued, looking over at her husband. “I hope you’ll learn to respect him more than you’re respecting me right now.”

 

“Hey, if you cheated on him, I wouldn’t blame you,” Cas said.

 

“I didn’t cheat on your father!” Rebecca yelled.

 

“Okay, okay.” Dean walked over to her and stood between her and Cas. “Deep breaths.”

 

Rebecca puckered her lips in anger as Dean looked over at the last young girl standing there.

 

“Okay, now who the fuck are you? Because even I don’t know,” Dean stated.

 

“I’m his niece,” She replied, turning to Cas and extending her hand. “I’m Abbie, Gabriel’s daughter.”

 

“You were born after I died weren’t you?” Cas asked. “You’re so young.”

 

“I was five when you died,” She said. “And I’ve got a kid of my own.”

 

“Y’all, I don’t know what they’re putting in the food these days, but you look undergrown,” Cas snorted.

 

“I assure you, I’m not,” She replied. “You’re supposed to shake my hand, too, you know?”

 

“Y’all?” Dean muttered to himself, looking at Cas in confusion. “ _Y’all_?”

 

“Oh! Alright,” Cas replied, awkwardly grabbing her hand and shaking it. “So, which one of you is taking me home?”

 

“Taking you home?” Gabriel asked.

 

“Well, yeah. You can’t just leave me here,” Cas stated. There was a long, silent pause. “Guys!”

 

“This is why manners are important, Cas,” Dean said.

 

“Maybe it’s uh… uhm… best if you stayed here,” his mother suggested.

 

“Why?” Cas scoffed. “You’re my family! Don’t you want me?”

 

“Of course we want you honey,” she replied, putting a hand on his shoulder and laughing. “Maybe it’d be better if you stayed with Dean, though.”

 

“I’m not staying with him!” Cas exclaimed. “This clown keeps telling me he’s in love with me and we used to live together. As a couple!”

 

“You did,” Gabriel stated.

 

“Yeah.” Anna nodded along.

 

Everyone else in the room began nodding.

 

“See, that’s why you should stay with him!” Rebecca realized. “I mean, he was your whole life when you died. You lived with him. What’s more likely to bring back your memory than him?”

 

Dean gave them all an absurd look, knowing that the past three days had been arguing between all of them–and himself–over who got Cas. He wasn’t upset, but surprised.

 

“Yeah, great idea!” Dean agreed, patting Cas on the shoulder. “You and I are gonna fix this.”

 

Cas looked up at the ceiling in defeat and groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about not getting a chapter up by Christmas. It was hectic as hell and by the time I had the time to put it up, it was time for this weekend.


	4. Chapter 4

“Take the couch tonight?” Dean asked, drying his hair off with a towel and draping it over his shoulder.

 

“I don’t want to take the couch,” Cas replied.

 

“Well, neither do I,” Dean stated. “But this is my house. I’m not sleeping on the couch for the rest of my life.”

 

“I’m practically being forced to stay here!” Cas protested. “Why should I get the couch?”

 

“Because you deserve the couch,” Dean retorted. “We can work out a schedule or get you an air mattress or something this week, okay?”

 

“Fine,” Cas sighed disapprovingly.

 

“Quit your bitching. It’s just for one night,” Dean said.

 

“I wasn’t bitching,” Cas argued.

 

“You were about to,” Dean replied, taking the towel off his shoulder and heading towards his bedroom.

* * *

Dean woke up early to get ready for work, careful to be quiet as he went to prepare his morning coffee.

 

“Don’t bother,” Cas grumbled as Dean tip-toed past the couch. “I’m already awake.”

 

“Why?” Dean asked. “You didn’t get up this early before.”

 

“This fucking couch,” Cas stated, sitting up and looking at Dean with bags under his eyes. “This is the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever slept on.”

 

“You’ve only slept on one other thing, Cas,” Dean said.

 

“Regardless, I am not sleeping on that couch ever again,” Cas declared.

 

“I hate sleeping on that couch as much as you do,” Dean replied. “I’m not sleeping on that every night.”

 

“I want to sleep in the bed. It’s comfortable,” Cas argued.

 

“What about the air mattress?” Dean asked.

 

“I want the bed,” Cas repeated.

 

“If you want to sleep in the bed every night, then we’re sharing it,” Dean stated.

 

“What?” Cas scoffed. “I’m not sharing a bed with you! You’re gay!”

 

“You’re gay, too,” Dean stated.

 

“No, I’m not. I’m not getting in bed with someone who says they’re in love with me,” Cas said.

 

“Then you’re not getting in bed,” Dean replied. “Simple as that.”

 

“You can’t just kick me out of the bed!” Cas protested.

 

“I can’t kick you out if you were never formally invited into it,” Dean sneered. “In the meantime, I’ve got to ready for work. You’re welcome to go sleep in my bed while I do so.”

 

“You’re _so_ generous,” Cas grumbled.

 

“Also, I’m gonna pick up some boxes of your old stuff. I kept it all in a storage locker,” Dean continued. “You’re gonna have to wear something more than my ill-fitting pajamas. You need clothes of your own.”

 

“Yeah, I do, don’t I?” Cas mused, getting up from the couch.

 

“Mhm.” Dean nodded and patted him on the shoulder. “Go nap, babe.”

 

“I’m not your babe,” Cas stated.

 

Dean groaned and turned back towards him. “Fine. Go nap, _asshole_.”

* * *

When Dean got home, Cas was fixing himself some dinner, stirring some soup in a pot on the stove.

 

“You want to help with these boxes?” He asked. “There’s kind of a lot of stuff.”

 

Cas used a nearby fork to see how close the noodles were to being done. “I have a few minutes, yet.”

 

“Awesome,” Dean replied. “Come on.”

 

Cas helped Dean bring in six large cardboard boxes of things from the car and set them on the floor in the living room.

 

“This is all my stuff that you kept?” He asked.

 

“Yep,” Dean answered.

 

“That’s a bit obsessive and clingy,” Cas said.

 

“Maybe some part of me knew I might need them in the future?” Dean suggested.

 

“Be realistic,” Cas retorted with an eye roll.

 

“Be realistic?” Dean scoffed. “From the guy who rose from the dead?”

 

“Yes, be realistic, Dean.” Cas stated. “I’ll go through the boxes after my soup.”

 

“You have enough for two?” Dean asked.

 

“Make your own,” Cas replied.

 

“Indian leftovers it is, then,” Dean mused.

 

“But it’s not. I ate those,” Cas stated.

 

Dean make a whimper and then a groan followed up with a sigh. “Fuck you.”

 

“Hey, you never said they were off limits,” Cas said.

 

“Not like you would have listened,” Dean muttered. “I’ll get these boxes open in the mean time.”

 

Cas came over with his bowl of soup and sat on the couch as Dean cut open the tape on the last of the boxes.

 

“That box in front of you is one of the clothing boxes,” Dean said, getting up off the ground.

 

Cas spooned some soup into his mouth and then set the spoon down on the table, popping open the box in front of him. “Oh.”

 

“Oh, what?” Dean asked.

 

“That’s just… a lot of color,” Cas stated.

 

“It was the nineties, Cas,” Dean chuckled. “Of course there’s a lot of colors.”

 

Cas reached in and pulled out a bright pink ski-jacket and held it up. “I am not wearing that.”

 

“I’d hope not,” Dean replied. “Set it on the other side of the couch."

 

Cas put the jacket down and reached in again. “Ooh, this material feels nice.” He said, reaching in and pulling out a silk shirt.

 

“Oh, I forgot that shirt existed!” Dean exclaimed, smiling wide. “You used to wear that and tuck it in to these really high waisted pants and it was such a bad look now that I think of it, but that was your go to fancy outfit.”

 

“Oh, God,” Cas groaned. “Don’t I have anything plain?”

 

“You were a gay man in the eighties and nineties,” Dean stated. “Hell no.”

 

Cas rummaged through the pile and sighed, giving a skeptical look at what would be a very tight-fitting shirt that zipped up at the neck. “This is bullshit.”

 

“You looked cute in that,” Dean said.

 

“How many of these things does a man need?” Cas asked, pulling up a pink ski-jacket. “It’s not even cold here!”

 

“It was trendy,” Dean replied.

 

“Was everyone on crack back then?” Cas scoffed. He threw the jacket down on the pile with the other unwanted clothing and something flung out of it.

 

“What’s that?” Dean asked.

 

Cas bent over and picked it up off the floor in front of him. “What the hell?”

 

“Oh my God!” Dean exclaimed, taking it out of his hand. “It’s your old iPod!”

 

“My what?” Cas asked.

 

“Your iPod,” Dean repeated. “It’s the first one that came out. You got this right before you died and loaded it with music and it was your favorite thing. You took it everywhere almost.”

 

“But what is it?” Cas asked.

 

“It’s a little tiny electronic device that you put music on and can listen to on the go,” Dean explained.

 

“Does it work?” Cas continued.

 

“I don’t know,” Dean answered. “You only used it for a month. It might. Remind me sometime to get you a charger for it and we’ll find out.”

 

Dean threw it back and Cas caught it clumsily and dropped it in his lap. “So you don’t like any of these clothes?”

 

“Not really, I mean–wait–” Cas reached into the box and pulled some material up. “–this is a normal color.”

 

“Is that…” Dean leaned into the box and gasped. “It is!”

 

Cas pulled a large, tan coat out of the box and then tossed it to the side. “Of course it’s a god damn trench coat. Nothing normal…”

 

“That coat was your favorite,” Dean said sadly.

 

“I must have been some kinda crazy in that case,” Cas retorted, shoving everything off the couch back into the box. “So what do we do about clothes?”

 

“Get your sizes off of those and I can take you to get some ‘normal’ clothes later in the week on my day off,” Dean answered. “In the meantime, enjoy your cut-off jeans.”

* * *

“You sure you want to take the couch?” Dean asked.

 

“Yes,” Cas grumbled, sitting down on it, the springs squeaking. “Can you just buy a new couch?”

 

“Uh-uh.” Dean shook his head.

 

Cas sighed and laid down. “Turn out the lights on your way out.”

 

“Sleep tight,” Dean said, walking towards his bedroom and flipping the light switch off.

 

Dean tossed and turned for a while before starting to fall asleep. Just as he was getting settled, the door opened and Cas came in.

 

“What?” Dean mumbled. “You need something?”

 

“I’m not sleeping on the couch,” Cas stated, getting on the bed next to Dean and pulling the blankets over himself. “So no gay stuff.”

 

“No gay stuff,” Dean repeated with a chuckle. “Now good night, Cas.”

 

“Good night, Dean.” Cas replied, scooting further away from him so their backs weren’t touching.


	5. Chapter 5

“Didn’t you get off work over an hour ago?” Cas asked as Dean stepped into the house.

 

“Yes,” Dean replied, shutting the door behind himself.

 

“What took you so long? I made mac and cheese - enough for the two of us, but it’s cold by now,” Cas said.

 

“I was out buying you something. Something rather essential,” Dean stated.

 

“Food? Clothes? A loving family?” Cas asked.

 

“You have all those things,” Dean said, putting a box on the table. “Though in this day and age, this is debatably more important than all of those.”

 

“Sex?” Cas replied.

 

“No.” Dean sighed as he popped the lid open to the box. “A cell phone.”

 

“That’s a cell phone?!” Cas gasped, looking at the small, thin device.

 

“Yep,” Dean replied, holding the box upside down and popping the phone out of the packaging. “It’s used from a pawn shop because I can’t afford the new stuff, but it’s an iPhone. And I have the SIM card right here.”

 

“This is a phone?” Cas asked, picking it up. “It feels so fragile and delicate.”

 

“It kind of is. It’s not like those old Nokia’s that would survive a nuclear attack,” Dean retorted, taking a small chip out of his shirt pocket. “Here.”

 

Dean took the phone from Cas’s hands and used the metal tool in the box to pop open the slot for the SIM card, and then slipped the chip in. He turned it on and waited for it to load, handing it back to Cas as the screen displayed a ‘Hello’.

 

“How do I use it? There’s no buttons,” Cas said.

 

“You touch it and the screen responds. Just swipe right there,” he instructed.

 

Cas slowly slid his finger across the arrow and the screen changed to an instructional dialogue.

 

“What’s this called again?” Cas asked, staring in awe at the screen.

 

“An iPhone,” Dean answered.

 

“Is this like that iPod?” he continued.

 

“Actually, yeah!” Dean exclaimed. “That iPod you found was when they first came out ever - a first generation iPod. Apple - the manufacturer that makes them - ended up later making phones and touch screen devices. What you’re using now is a fifth generation iPhone.”

 

“Whoa,” Cas breathed. “But what’s my email?”

 

“You’re gonna need an email, aren’t you?” Dean mused. “We’ll set you up one later. Just put mine in.”

 

“What’s yours?” Cas asked.

 

“Uh, for my iTunes account…” Dean chuckled awkwardly. “I used my dummy email for that because I didn’t want to get spam in my real email.”

 

“And?”

 

“It’s [deeznutschester@gmail.com](mailto:deeznutschester@gmail.com),” Dean stated.

 

Cas giggled at the name and looked down at the foreign object in his hand. “How do you spell that?”

 

“Just give it here,” Dean sighed, taking the phone from his hand and typing it in quickly along with the password.

 

“Thanks,” Cas replied, taking the phone back and touching the screen some more. “How does this work even?”

 

“No clue,” Dean said. “Some science-y tech-y stuff I’d never understand.”

 

“I mean, it’s so small,” Cas said. “Phones were the size of your head almost when I died.”

 

“How come you remember phones and not iPods?” Dean asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Cas answered. “How come I’m alive and not dead?”

 

“Touché,” Dean responded. “Let me show you how to put a contact in there,”

 

“A contact?” Cas asked.

 

“Yeah, like how you keep a contact book in real life with addresses and phone numbers? Like that except it’s in your phone,” Dean explained.

 

“Oh,” Cas replied. “That’s cool.”

 

“Yeah you’d think so. It’s so commonplace to me,” Dean said, standing over his shoulder. “Swipe to the next screen?”

 

“Huh?” Cas turned and looked up at him.

 

“Just swipe your finger from right to left on the screen,” Dean instructed.

 

Cas did so and the screen moved. “Whoa.”

 

“I’m trying really hard not to find this hilarious how fascinating you find a touch screen,” Dean said with a chuckle.

 

“It’s not funny,” Cas replied.

 

“It’s kinda funny,” Dean retorted. “Okay, so there–click on the icon of the silhouette of a person. It says ‘contacts’ right there.”

 

“Okay.” Cas tapped it and it opened up a blank screen.

 

“Click the plus in the top corner there,” Dean continued.

 

Cas did as told and it brought up a new page with information fields.

 

“Okay, tap the line that says ‘first name’,” Dean said.

 

Cas tapped it and a keyboard popped up. “I can type on this thing?”

 

“Yes, you can,” Dean replied. “So put in my name.”

 

Cas slowly typed in Dean’s name, unsure of how to work the keyboard while holding the phone.

 

“Okay, now put in my last name the same way,” Dean said. “Winchester, W-I-N-C-H-E-S-T-E-R.”

 

Cas typed it in, getting a little more hang of what he was supposed to be doing.

 

“And then click the silhouette there,” Dean continued. “Now click ‘Take Picture’

 

“I can take a picture on this thing?!” Cas gasped as the camera pulled up.

 

“Of course!” Dean grabbed the phone and held it in the air above them. “Smile?”

 

“What?” Cas asked, turning as Dean tapped the capture button.

 

“Perfect,” Dean snorted, the contact information updating to have Dean’s display picture as him smiling cutely and a blurred Castiel looking at him in confusion.

 

“I look stupid,” Cas said.

 

“Yeah.” Dean nodded and scrolled down. “So when you want to put in someone’s phone number, just tap on this here and type it in. I’m putting in mine now.”

 

“That’s pretty straightforward,” Cas replied.

 

“Yep, sure is,” Dean agreed. “Think you can remember all that? I’m gonna write up a list of all your family’s names and numbers.”

 

“Mhm, it’s easy. I got this,” Cas said.

 

“Alright, you want to see how to call people now?” Dean asked.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Cas replied, taking the phone back from Dean. “This is gonna take forever to fully learn.”

 

“If there’s one thing I know about you, Castiel, it’s that you can figure almost anything out,” Dean stated, giving him a small smile and looking back to the phone. “Alright, press that circle button beneath your thumb.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't post a chapter last week - I was super sick and swamped with work, but I'm back to being half alive!

“Dean!” Cas called from another room in the house. 

 

“What, Cas?” Dean replied back. 

 

“Come here!” Cas ordered. 

 

Dean groaned and got up from the couch and went towards the bedroom. “What, Cas?” He repeated. 

 

“What the hell is this?” Cas asked, holding up his phone, music playing from it. 

 

“What?” Dean replied, sitting on the bed beside him. 

 

“What’s this… noise?” Cas scoffed. “I was watching a tutorial on how to beat this level of Angry Birds and accidentally clicked on this.” 

 

“That’s music, Cas,” Dean sighed. “Please tell me you know what music is.” 

 

“I know what music is, but this–” Castiel shook the phone in his hand and raised his eyebrows at it. “–is not music.” 

 

Dean laughed and looked at the screen. “You’re right. That’s Wiz Khalifa. That’s not music.” 

 

“I can’t even understand what he’s saying,” Cas said. “And what I can understand is about pussy.”

 

Dean snorted and nodded. “Yeah, sounds like good ol’ Wiz.” 

 

“This is n’t what music is all like these days, is it ?” Cas asked . 

 

“No. And thank God for that,” Dean remarked. “Though, the only stuff that’s any good now really is the indie stuff. The stuff on the radio is all shit.”

 

“Why does it suck now?” 

 

“I don’t know,” Dean replied, taking Cas’s phone from his hands. “Here, this is Katy Perry. She’s one of the more famous pop stars right now.” 

 

“Who’s that black dude?” Cas asked. “That’s not Katy Perry, right?” 

 

Dean burst out laughing and shook his head. “No, honey. That’s… Snoop Dogg I think.” 

 

“Snoop Dogg?” Cas scoffed. “The hell are people calling themselves today?” 

 

“Says someone who calls himself Castiel?” Dean retorted. 

 

“It’s my actual name. You can’t tell me that man there’s birth certificate says Snoop Robert Dogg,” Cas argued. 

 

“Fair point, but you could choose to go by a normal name - your actual name,” Dean replied. 

 

“It’s still part of my given name,” Cas said. “Katy is definitely wrong though. I have no problem turning down California Girls. The whole whipped cream shooting from her melons thing is a real turn off.” 

 

“Listen, the 2000’s were a clusterfuck,” Dean sneered. “Ooh, and one of the richest female artists - all she does is sing country pop about her ex’s.” 

 

“Oh God,” Cas groaned, Dean pausing Katy Perry mid-song and typing something else in and then handing it back to Cas. 

 

“We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together,” Cas read aloud. “This sounds like a real charming song.” 

 

“It is,” Dean said sarcastically. 

 

“You know, dress this girl up decently and she might be hot, though,” Cas mused. 

 

“She’s not hot,” Dean stated. 

 

“Agree to disagree there, homeslice,” Cas replied. 

 

“Homeslice?” Dean scoffed. 

 

“What? That’s what people say, isn’t it?” Cas asked. 

 

“Oh no,” Dean groaned. 

 

“What?” Cas asked. 

 

“Your entire vocabulary is the vocabulary you knew when you died,” Dean said. “I’m about to get a blast from the past, aren’t I?” 

 

“So, people don’t say homeslice anymore?” Cas replied. 

 

“People don’t say anything anymore,” Dean said. “All the words you know, no one says.” 

 

“So what do people say instead of homeslice?” Cas asked. 

 

“Bro, but for the love of God, do not start calling people bro. The only people that call people bro are lesbians and wanna be gangsters,” Dean stated. 

 

“You know this song’s kinda catchy,” Cas replied. 

 

“Don’t say that,” Dean groaned. “Do not say that.” 

 

“But it is,” Cas said. “Not like I love it or think it’s high quality music, but it’s catchy.” 

 

“I don’t even know you,” Dean sighed.

 

“That’s true, you don’t,” Cas replied. “Hey, wait–I have a question.” 

 

“Yes?” Dean replied. 

 

“What about computers?” Cas asked. “I mean, they were so big and chunky and heavy. What are they like now?” 

 

“Oh man,” Dean breathed. “You’re not gonna believe this.” 

 

“What?”

 

“Let me go get it for you,” Dean said, standing up off the bed again. 

 

“Get it?” Cas asked. 

 

“You’ll see,” Dean replied, leaving the room. 

 

After a moment he returned, holding something behind his back. 

 

“Where is it?” Cas sat up and tried to look around him. 

 

“Right…” Dean taunted him, walking up to him slowly. “Here!” 

 

Dean pulled out the small laptop and tossed it on the bed. 

 

“This is a computer?” Cas scoffed. 

 

Dean nodded. “Sure is.” 

 

“No!” Cas gasped with a grin on his face, grabbing the device and tentatively opening the screen. “Whoa.” 

 

“Cool, right?” Dean asked. 

 

“Radical.” Cas smiled as the screen lit up. 

 

“No, don’t say that,” Dean said. “No one says that.” 

 

“What? Radical?” Cas replied. 

 

“Yeah. No one says that,” Dean repeated. 

 

“Well, what else do you say? Gnarly?” Cas asked. 

 

“No, no, God that’s even worse,” Dean groaned. “Say ‘cool’ or ‘awesome’ or something like that.”

 

“Oh okay,” Cas replied. “Cool.” 

 

“Good,” Dean chuckled, sitting back on the bed. “Want me to show you how it works?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Alright, so this little square down here is what you use to move your little pointer mouse around the screen,” Dean began, moving his finger around the trackpad and looking up at the screen. “See?” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse this being a little late. I was busy over the weekend and way too tired to stay up any later to edit this and publish it yesterday. I probably won't post this weekend because I'll be at VegasCon.

“Dean!” Cas shouted, laying on the bed and staring up at his phone. “Dean!” he yelled again.

 

After a moment, the bathroom door opened and Dean was standing there with a towel around his waist and shampoo running down the side of his face, hair matted on his head. “What, Cas? What is it that can’t wait until I’m out of the shower?”

 

“I want to go meet girls,” Cas said, sitting up and holding up a picture of Megan Fox. “I want to meet hot chicks like that.”

 

“But you’re gay,” Dean argued.

 

“Well, I sure don’t feel gay,” Cas stated. “I like girls now.”

 

Dean sighed and looked at him in disappointment. “Fine, I’ll show you where to go meet ‘hot chicks’, but you know you can’t just go sleep with anyone, right?”

 

“Why not?” Cas asked. “You don’t control my life.”

 

“Why not?” Dean laughed bitterly at the ceiling. “Because having sex with random strangers without taking any precautions is how you end up with an STD. Do you want to end up with lifelonglifelong sores on your dick?”

 

“No,” Cas replied. “If it’s so risky and dangerous, then why would people do it?”

 

“It’s not risky and dangerous if you take proper precautions - like condoms and lube and getting tested,” Dean said.

 

“Oh, well, in that case, I need some precautions!” Cas perked up and looked back at his phone. “Hot chicks, here I come,”

 

“Yeah, not so fast,” Dean stated. “I’m gonna have to teach you about the do’s and don’ts of safe sex before I let you go stick it everything.”

 

“Oh, alright,” Cas replied. “Let me know the tea.”

 

“I’m taking my shower first,” Dean said. “You pull me out of my happy place for this kind of bullshit again, and I will fucking punch you.”

 

“Go shower. I’ll be waiting,” Cas said.

 

Dean sighed deeply and turned towards the bathroom door. After a second he screamed, “Fucking Christ!” loudly.

 

“Dean? You okay?” Cas asked, almost scared to ask.

 

“Shampoo in my eye,” Dean hissed, poking his head back out. “Battery acid would hurt less.”

 

“Mmm.” Cas thought for a moment and then nodded. “Probably so.”

 

Dean grumbled to himself as he got back in the shower.

* * *

Dean finished with his shower and then took Cas into the kitchen - because sitting on the bed together was far too awkward a situation to do this in.

 

“Okay, rules of having sex. I will make this quick.” Dean sighed, throwing a box of condoms on the table in front of him. “Use these. Don’t use two, they will break. And if they break, and you nut, you will knock a bitch up.”

 

“Nut?” Cas asked. “Is that supposed to mean…”

 

“Yeah when you…come.” Dean replied, cheeks flushing red. “So use these. All the time. It’s not optional. Same with guys. Use them with guys, too because otherwise, you might catch something because it is very easy to catch something when you’re doing it through the butt. So still use them with girls if you’re gonna do that, too.”

 

“I don’t want anything in anyone’s butt,” Cas said.

 

“One day, pal,” Dean muttered. “One day.”

 

“And you don’t do the same person twice, either,” he added.

 

“Why?” Cas asked. “What if she’s really good?”

 

“Do the same person twice and things just get messy,” Dean replied.

 

“But, messy can be fun,” Cas stated.

 

“Not this kind of messy,” Dean groaned, feeling incredibly uncomfortable at this point. “Always ask for proof that they’re tested and have nothing because sometimes people can have something and not know it. In fact, that’s how HIV is spread so often - people unaware they have it having sex with other people while their viral load is high. Okay, so, condoms and testing.”

 

“But what if they want me to be tested, too?” Cas asked.

 

“Then, good,” Dean said. “If they want proof as much as you do, then they’re just as concerned with being safe as you are. So you should probably get documentation for that as well.”

 

“Why are you so concerned with my health?” Cas scoffed.

 

“Because I don’t want to have to be the one to apply ointment to your herpes because you don’t know how to do it properly,” Dean argued.

 

“I know how to apply ointment.” Cas rolled his eyes and looked away. “God, you’re acting like I’m thirteen or something.”

 

“You aren’t thirteen,” Dean sighed. “You’re like two weeks old not even.”

 

“That’s not a fair comparison,” Cas stated.

 

“Well, you think it’s fair I gotta deal with my boyfriend being a massive asshole? No, it’s not.” Dean replied, with a tense sigh. “No re-do’s, ask for proof they’re clean, and use condoms. And if you’re doing anything up the butt, lube is your best friend.”

 

“I won’t be!” Cas declared loudly. “Trust me.”

 

“Whatever,” Dean sang. “But shit happens sometimes.”

 

“Yeah it probably does when you put things up where poop is supposed to come down,” Cas retorted.

 

“Okay, you got all that about safe sex? Because I am not continuing this conversation any further,” Dean stated.

 

“Wait, but where do I find girls? Do I just go to bars or something?” Cas asked.

 

“No, no, they have an app for that now,” Dean said. “Tinder and OKCupid are your friends. Get them.”

 

“Will do immediately,” Cas replied with a smile as Dean shuffled out of the room with his head down.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, I am back. I had no intentions to leave for as long as I did, so for those of you who aren't following me on my blog, I had planned a one chapter break for VegasCon, but then I was sick, and then my laptop broke, and when I replaced it, I couldn't get my writing files on here and the software I write in to work, and then my dad nearly died, and now I"m just returning from SeattleCon. But I am done with my con responsibilities for a while, and am currently doing Camp NanoWrimo in hopes of writing at least another 25000 words by the end of the month on this. To get caught up, I'm going to post twice a week if I can and write as much as possible. I'm so sorry that I dropped for a while, but shit happens. 
> 
> If you want to stay updated if something happens or get notified when I post more of my stuff, my blog is [dean-wetting-his-panties.tumblr.com](http://dean-wetting-his-panties.tumblr.com/)

Cas’s phone went off, vibrating on the table next to his spoon. Mouth full, he looked at it and opened the notification.

 

“Hell yeah!” he cheered, standing up from the table.

 

“What?” Dean asked, looking up at him in confusion.

 

“Someone just asked if I wanted to come over tonight,” Cas said.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“On Tinder!” Cas replied. “They just got off work and live not too far from here.”

 

“Oh,” Dean breathed, his face falling as Cas began walking into their bedroom. “You’re not gonna finish your food?”

 

“No, you can have it,” Cas answered. “I’m getting dressed and then getting out of here,”

 

“With what car?” Dean asked.

 

“Oh, right! I need to hail an Uber, don’t I?” Cas mused. "Thanks for reminding me."

 

"No problem," Dean muttered, reaching across the table and pulling the bowl of Chinese across to his space.

 

“Do you think someone with the user name WildTyga42069 would prefer me in red or black?” Cas called, poking his head back into the room.

 

“I think she’d prefer you kinky with that kind of name,” Dean remarked.

 

“What do you mean?” Cas asked.

 

“I’m sure you’ll find out soon,” he grumbled in response, twirling some noodles on a fork.

 

“Don’t be peppered just because I’m getting some and you’re not,” Cas stated.

 

“Peppered?”

 

“That’s what people say now, isn’t it?” Cas replied. “That when you’re being rude about something but passive aggressively, you’re being peppered. Or peppery or something. But peppered sounds better to me,”

 

“Wait do you mean–“ Dean stared at him before throwing his head back and laughing.

 

“What?” Cas frowned at him. “What’s so funny? Why are you laughing?”

 

“You–,” Dean wheezed and bit his lip to stop from laughing again. “–you mean salty,”

 

“Salty!” Cas exclaimed. “That sounds much better.”

 

“Peppered, my God,” Dean cackled, raising the fork of noodles up to his mouth. “And I’m not being salty, Cas. Go wear a nice blue shirt. Dark blue. It brings out your eyes.”

 

“Hey, I was dead for fifteen years. Don’t laugh at me,” Cas huffed, going back down the hallway.

 

Cas returned wearing a long sleeved dark blue button up and jeans, holding two ties in his hands – one black and one an easy cerulean.

 

“Which tie looks best?” he asked.

 

“Neither,” Dean replied, standing up from the table and going over and taking both of them out of his hands. “Wait here.”

 

Dean came back holding a gold, satin tie. “This is one of my nice ties. Ruin it and I’m putting you back in the ground.”

 

“No you wouldn’t,” Cas said, taking it out of his hand and holding it up to himself. “You sure this would match?”

 

“Just trust me on this,” Dean replied, taking it back and wrapping it around Cas’s neck. “It brings out your eyes,”

 

“How?” Cas asked.

 

“I don’t know, but something about colors. It’ll go well.” Dean muttered, folding the fabric over and around itself and then pulling the knot snug.

 

“Thanks,” Cas replied with a grin. “Be back later,”

 

Dean backed away from him and Cas headed straight for the door.

 

“Okay then,” Dean muttered to himself, Cas practically bounding outside. Dean sighed and walked back to the kitchen table, sitting back down in the chair and staring down at the bowl of noodles in front of him.

* * *

Dean only had a few minutes to mope around and feel sorry for himself before Cas came back. He’d only been gone thirty minutes and Dean didn’t expect him until the next morning or at least later that night, but there he stood, knocking on the front door.

 

Dean opened the door and let him in, staring at him expectantly. His clothes were dissheveled and his hair a mess, he was holding Dean’s tie in his hand, and his face was flushed.

 

“What are you looking at me like that for?” Cas snapped.

 

“You look a little…” Dean trailed off his words as he kept staring at him. “Did you get catfished?”

 

“What does this have to do with fish?” Cas replied.

 

“No, not actual fish,” Dean said. “Catfishing is when a guy pretends to be a hot girl online to fuck with you.”

 

“No, that is not what happened,” Cas stated.

 

“Well you seem angry about something,” Dean stated.

 

“You would be, too,” Cas grumbled, pushing the tie against Dean’s chest.

 

Dean took it out of his hands and draped it over his shoulder. “What happened?”

 

“Everything was going great, okay?” Cas started. “She’s hot, I’m hot. We’re getting along great. She’s all over me, we’re getting it on, she’s wet, I’m hard, this is exactly as it should be going.”

 

Dean pulled his lips into his mouth and bit them to avoid making a face of disgust at the description he was hearing.

 

“And then all of a sudden, it’s like I’m a completely different person, right?” Cas continued. “I just got up, told her I wasn’t interested, and left!”

 

Dean made a stifled laugh and Cas glared at him.

 

“It’s not funny!” Cas protested.

 

“It makes sense though, dude,” Dean stated.

 

“How?” Cas asked.

 

“Because you’re gay. You’re not into girls. You never were and you’re realizing that,” Dean replied with a smile. “Maybe the real you is in there somewhere after all.”

 

“I am the real me,” Cas said.

 

“No you’re not.” Dean shook his head.

 

“Yes I am,” Cas argued. “Now I have a very uncomfortable hard-on to get rid of so I need a good porn site.”

 

Dean’s eyes opened and he stepped back a little.

 

“What?” Cas replied.

 

“Nothing,” Dean muttered. “Just didn’t expect to ever hear you say that.”

 

“Well?”

 

“Pornhub.com.” Dean said. “Knock yourself out.”

 

“Why would I do that?” Cas asked.

 

“Figure of speech, Cas,” Dean grumbled.

 

“Oh. Well thanks, see you soon,” Cas said, spinning on his heels and heading to take Dean’s laptop.

 

Dean heard the bathroom door shut and sat down on the couch, staring at the black TV screen.

 

“Don’t do it,” he muttered, taking a deep breath.

 

“Don’t do it.”

 

“Don’t be a pussy.”

 

Dean clenched his breath and then started crying with a hiss of, “Fuck!” to himself.

 

“This isn’t right,” Dean cried to himself, hanging his head down into his chest, shaking it back and forth. “This is not how it’s supposed to be.”

 

Dean whimpered and sat on the couch crying in the silence–well not quite silence. There was crickets and the sound of the toilet lid shifting back and forth from down the hall, but that wasn’t much of a comfort.

 

After a while, the noise stopped and the sink ran and Cas came out. “Thanks, Dean. I put your laptop back on your be–Dean?”

 

Dean looked up at him and Cas looked worried, genuinely concerned. Dean stared, lips parted and sniffled a little.

 

Cas gasped and ran over to him, cradling his face with his hands. “Dean, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

 

“What?” Dean held his breath and looked at him, slightly shaking his head back and forth in confusion.

 

“What’s the matter? You’re upset,” Cas said, wiping his tears away with his fingers.

 

Cas was different. He was acting different. His voice was different. He even _looked_ different.

 

“Cas?” Dean breathed. “Are you _you_?”

 

“Me?” Cas asked. “Of course I’m me. I’m always me.”

 

Dean shook his head. “No you’re not.”

 

“Do I seem like I’m not me?” Cas replied, running his hands down Dean’s shoulders and then holding his hands.

 

“Are you back?” Dean asked.

 

“Yes, it’s me!” Cas exclaimed with a smile. “I’m me!”

 

Dean broke out in a smile and kissed him, hugging him tightly around the neck. “I love you, Cas.”

 

“I love you too, Dean,” he said softly. “Now, what’s the matter?”

 

“Nothing anymore,” Dean answered. “If you’re nothing, then it doesn’t matter.”

 

“Were you upset because I was acting funny?” Cas asked.

 

Dean nodded.

 

“Oh. Well, that’s okay, I’m not funny now, am I?” Cas continued.

 

“No,” Dean said, finally letting go of him. “You seem like you again.”

 

“But I’ve always been me,” Cas said.

 

“No, this is you. Ten minutes ago is not you,”

 

“What do you mean?” Cas asked.

 

“What do I mean?” Dean scoffed. “You–the Castiel that I know–, he’s not into girls or sleeping around or one night stands. He’s not rude and mean and sarcastic–okay well a little bit sarcastic–but not a lot. And he’s not sex obsessed and that crude and gross. But it doesn’t matter because he’s back, right?” 

 

“That doesn’t sound much like me, does it?” Cas mused.

 

“No,” Dean said. “That why I was upset.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Cas replied. “Everything’s gonna be okay now, Dean.”

 

Cas smiled at him and Dean smiled back. Dean put his hands on his face and leaned in to kiss him, but Cas made a loud noise of protest and shoved him off.

 

“Cas?”

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Cas scoffed. He didn’t seem different anymore.

 

“What?”

 

“I told you, I don’t want you!” he yelled. “I’m not into men!”

 

“No, this isn’t you,” Dean said, shaking his head back and forth hysterically. “No, no, no this isn’t you. You were back, Cas! You were back!”

 

“You think just because I’m into women and not into you anymore that there’s something broken about me, but I’m fucking done with this,” Cas groaned. “Stay all the way on your side of the bed tonight, Dean. You’re fucking insane.”

 

“I’m not insane,” Dean stated. “You’re in there somewhere, I know it. I know it now. I’m going to get you out.”

 

Cas laughed at the notion and stood back up off the couch. “Fuck off, Dean.”

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the next month or so, I'll be posting twice a week when possible - around the weekend and around the middle of the week. I've got the next few chapters all ready, despite a scare last night where I lost all of them in a file transfer.

“No,” Dean said sternly, blocking Cas from exiting the house.

 

“Let me through,” Cas ordered.

 

“No!” Dean replied. “If you think I am letting you out of the house in _that_ , you have another thing coming, young man.”

 

“I am an adult and I will wear what I want,” Cas stated.

 

“Do you pay the bills in this house?” Dean asked. “Oh, you do? What bills? Because last I checked, I pay them all and you do as I say.”

 

“I just got risen from the dead. Let me have my shoes,” Cas said.

 

“Don’t play the Jesus card with me,” Dean drawled, hand still blocking the door frames. “New shoes. Or you’re not leaving.”

 

“I love these shoes,” Cas stated. “Besides, they’re brand new! I just bought them!”

 

“With my money,” Dean sighed. “That I did not give you permission to spend on these atrocities.”

 

“Crocs are _not_ atrocities,” Cas huffed.

 

Dean laughed and rolled his eyes. “Not atrocities? Since when? No one who loves themselves wears Crocs.”

 

“I don’t care what you think. I like them and that’s all that matters,” Cas replied.

 

“No, that’s not how it works. It’s not socially acceptable to wear Crocs in public,” Dean argued.

 

“Why not?” Cas demanded.

 

“It looks like you’re wearing old hoagies for shoes,” Dean stated.

 

“They’re comfortable,” Cas said.

 

“They’re pieces of plastic with fluffy lining. They’re an incubator for bad smells and toe fungus,” Dean replied.

 

“How would you know?” Cas asked.

 

“How would I know?” Dean scoffed. “Well, I don’t know, Cas. Maybe I know because–”

 

Dean stopped his sentence as the sight of Cas laughing uncontrollably and stared at him in confusion.

 

“What the hell is your deal?” He finally asked.

 

“I’m just–” Cas began. “I was just standing here and I just saw this vision of you and I in the kitchen and you tripped over these neon green crocs and then fell and spilt cereal everywhere.”

 

“What?” Dean breathed.

 

“I just have this vivid picture of you tripping–” Cas said.

 

“No, I got that, but that’s not just a vision,” Dean stated. “That happened. That really happened. It was so long ago, but it was real.”

 

“Yeah, it did, didn’t it?” Cas replied, stepping back. “Holy fuck.”

 

“Holy fuck, indeed,” Dean laughed. “You know, you found it just as sadistically funny back then, too.”

 

“I know.” Cas grinned at him and went to go through the door again.

 

“No!” Dean put his hand at the doorframe again and blocked him. “Shoes. Off.”

 

“Dean!” Cas whined, looking up at the ceiling and groaning.


	10. Chapter 10

“Dean!” Cas called. “Dean, come look at this!”

 

“What, Cas?” Dean asked, walking into the room holding a steaming frying pan.

 

“That smells awful. What is it?” Cas asked.

 

“Dinner,” Dean replied. “Burnt dinner. What do you need?”

 

“The TV.” Cas pointed at the screen. “They’re saying that black guy is the President.”

 

Dean nodded. “Yeah, he is,”

 

“Really?” Cas stared at him in awe. “That’s not possible!”

 

“Anything’s possible. It’s the new millennium after all,” Dean said.

 

“When I died, there’s no way a black guy could have been President,” Cas stated.

 

“That’s true,” Dean replied. “But you died a long time ago,”

 

“Who is he?” Cas asked.

 

“His name is Barack Obama. He’s a Democrat. He was elected in 2008 and then re-elected in 2012, the whole time with his running mate Joe Biden,” Dean explained, scraping at the burnt pan with a fork.

 

“Is he black, too?”

 

“No.” Dean shook his head. “He’s white. But all these Republicans made up these rumors about Obama being from Kenya and being a Muslim just to try and make his Presidency illegitimate or something. So, while a black guy is President, he’s still not really getting off easy.”

 

“So, what’s happened in the last 15 years?” Cas asked. “What changed?”

 

“Gay marriage is legal. Trans people have some rights. Women are protesting to be allowed to post nipples on social media–”

 

“Nice,” Cas grinned.

 

Dean internally groaned at himself as he kept scraping junk off the pan. “Police brutality is still a bitch. Monica Lewinsky and that little blue dress will never be forgotten.”

 

“Who?” Cas asked.

 

“Monica Lewinsky. You were alive for that,” Dean stated.

 

“I don’t remember,” Cas said.

 

“Before Obama, we had Bush and Cheney. Before Bush, we had Bill Clinton and Al Gore,” Dean explained. “Remember Bill Clinton?”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Cas nodded. “I voted for him,”

 

“Yeah,” Dean said with a smile. “You did. You were a massive fan of his. Attended the rallies, campaigned for him, all the things,”

 

“I feel like I kind remember that,” Cas replied. “It’s foggy. It’s like it’s there, but I can’t get to it.”

 

“Give it time,” Dean replied. “I think you’re gonna be okay.”

 

“Was there a doubt about that?” Cas asked.

 

“Maybe not for you,” Dean muttered. “Anyways, while in office, Clinton had an affair with a White House intern named Monica Lewinsky. He denied it, but the truth came out in the end anyways. People wanted to impeach him, it was messy. But now she’s a journalist with a very big name for herself.”

 

“It sounds familiar,” Cas mused. “What about the next guy? Shrub?”

 

“Bush,” Dean giggled. “George Bush. His father, George H. W. Bush was President before Clinton,”

 

“That’s complicated,” Cas stated.

 

“Yeah, it is,” Dean nodded. “Both the Bush’s were warmongers anyways, so who cares about them?”

 

“Well, I do, considering I know nothing about them,” Cas replied.

 

“That’s what google is for, but stay away from the 9/11 conspiracies,” Dean chuckled.

 

Cas turned back to the TV and watched Obama speak for a minute. “I like this guy. He seems professional.”

 

“Well he’s the President,” Dean replied.

 

“Yeah, but, that’s not a requirement to be President,” Cas stated.

 

“True. I think you would have liked Obama though,” Dean mused. “Even more than Clinton, dare I say.”

 

“I agree.” Cas nodded, looking over at him. “I think I would have. So what’s for dinner?”

 

Dean looked down and the frying pan and sighed. “Delivery or takeout?”

 

“Delivery,” Cas replied.

 

“Delivery,” Dean repeated, giving him a smirk and going to wash out the burnt pan.


	11. Chapter 11

Dean was home alone, taking care of some personal chores and cleaning when the doorbell wrong.

 

“Be right there!” He called, leaning the broom up against the countertopcountertop and jogging to the front door. Dean opened it with a friendly smile, but his face fell when he saw who it was.

 

“Oh, fuck. Not you,” he groaned.

 

“I always love seeing you, too, Dean,” Balthazar replied, pushing past him into the house. “Castiel here? I heard he was alive still.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, staring daggers into the smaller man. “He’s alive. But, he’s not himself.”

 

“What do you mean?” Balthazar asked.

 

“However you found out that he was alive, did they not mention his mental state?” Dean replied.

 

“Mental state…” Balthazar drawled.

 

“He has no memory of anything he ever was or did,” Dean stated. “He’s not going to remember you. He doesn’t remember anyone or anything.”

 

“I still want to see the cheeky bastard,” Balthazar stated.

 

“Maybe it’ll do him good to see someone from his past,” Dean replied. “But he’s not here right now,”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, I sent him to get groceries,” Dean said. “Do you have a problem with that?”

 

“Oh, I assume you meant he left or something,” Balthazar said.

 

“Why would you think that?” Dean asked.

 

“You can be a little…overbearing,” Balthazar replied.

 

“I’ll have you know he enjoys it here with me very much,” Dean said. “He should be back any minute. Sit your cheating ass down on the couch and wait. Feel free to get your own refreshments while I vacuum the bedroom.”

 

“You two sharing a bed?” Balthazar asked.

 

“Yes, but it’s only because we both hate the couch so badly we can’t stand it,” Dean replied.

 

“So, it’s not an excuse to try and get back into his pants even though he doesn’t remember you?”

 

“Fuck you, Balthazar,” Dean grumbled. “Stay there and shut up.”

 

“Bossy, bossy,” Balthazar teased, jumping over the top of the couch and spread himself out on the cushions, hands behind his head and feet up at the other end.

* * *

Dean stood in his room broodingly, muttering to himself as he vacuumed.

 

“God why is he so messy?” Dewan groaned, picking up a pair of underwear with two fingers and throwing it out into the hallway. “Fucking teenage boy basically.”

 

He looked up and turned the vacuum off when he heard a car stop outside the house. He headed towards the front of the house and looked out the window - seeing Cas opening the trunk of an Uber and taking out some groceries.

 

“Cas is back,” He stated. “Sit there for a minute, would you?”

 

“He need any help with the groceries?” Balthazar asked.

 

“That’s what I’m here for,” Dean replied. “If you think you’re getting him back, you’ve got another thing coming.”

 

“I’m not trying to get him back,” Balthazar said.

 

“Yeah and Santa Clause is real and I’m straight,” Dean grumbled, slamming the front door behind him.

 

“Here, let me take some of those,” Dean called, jogging up to the car and taking a couple bags off of Cas’s hands.

 

“Thanks,” Cas replied, taking two more out of the trunk and setting them down on the concrete.

 

“How much did you get?” Dean asked.

 

“I couldn’t decide what I wanted, so I just got a little bit of everything,” Cas stated.

 

“I sent you to get two cartons of milk and a box of cereal,” Dean replied, waiting for Cas to grab the last two bags out of the trunk.

 

“Thanks!” Cas said loudly outside the car, waving at the driver. “Yeah, but everything looked so good.”

 

“I can’t let you do anything,” Dean sighed, picking up two more bags so that they each had four. “Next time, I’m giving you cash. You are going to lose your credit card privileges.”

 

“Whose car is that?” Cas asked, nodding his head towards the extra vehicle in the driveway.

 

“Oh, uh, someone came to see you,” Dean stated. “He’s just inside.”

 

“Who?” Cas replied.

 

“I don’t think you’re gonna remember him,” Dean said. “I mean, I’m the love of your life and you don’t remember me.”

 

“But you’re not the love of my life,” Cas countered.

 

“Just because you don’t think so, doesn’t mean it’s not true,” Dean replied.

 

“Aren’t I the one who gets to decide who the love of my life is?” Cas asked.

 

“Yes. And you did. You chose me,” Dean argued, opening the front door and nudging it with his leg so Cas could go in.

 

Cas hurried over and set the groceries down on the counter.

 

“Asshole, come on. Don’t you want to see him?” Dean called over towards the couch.

 

Balthazar popped his head up from the couch and then stood up, going over.

 

Cas turned around and bumped into Balthazar with a gasp.

 

Dean watched as his face went through a series of emotions and he stared blankly at his estranged ex-boyfriend.

 

“Balthazar?” Cas asked.

 

“You remember him?” Dean asked.

 

“Balthazar!” Cas repeated with a smile, grabbing him and kissing him, hands instantly going up into his hair.

 

Balthazar made surprised noises as Cas practically tried to eat him with how much he was kissing him.

 

Cas pulled away to breathe and looked over at Dean. “Maybe you were right. I think I am gay.”

 

“You think?” Dean asked.

 

Cas turned back to Balthazar and ran his hands down his chest. “See, Dean, you’re not the love of my life. He is.”

 

“No, no, he’s not,” Dean stated. “Don’t put yourself through this.”

 

“Yes he is!” Cas protested, turning back towards Dean and flashing him an angry look. “What do you know?”

 

“I know that he–” Dean began.

 

“Wait, oh my God!” Cas scoffed, backing away from Balthazar. He immediately grabbed the broom Dean had left up against the counter and hit Balthazar over the head with it.

 

“Cas!” Dean yelled.

 

“You fucking cheated on me!” Cas screamed, Balthazar moaning and rubbing the side of his head.

 

“What the hell, Cassie,” Balthazar whined.

 

“You cheated on me!” Cas repeated. “With a mime!”

 

“He was a hot mime,” Balthazar argued, barely ducking before Cas hit him again.

 

“Give me the broom,” Dean ordered, extending his hand.

 

“No,” Cas said defiantly.

 

“Castiel, give me the broom,” Dean repeated, reaching out and grabbing onto it.

 

“No, it’s mine!” Cas growled.

 

“It’s not your fucking broom,” Dean sighed. “Give it back and stop hitting people with it.”

 

Cas pulled the broom out of Dean’s hands and hit him in the face with the bristles before dropping the broom on the floor.

 

“Thank you,” Dean huffed, picking it up and carrying it back over to the closet where the cleaning supplies were kept.

 

“Is he always like this?” Balthazar asked.

 

“Uh-huh.” Dean nodded, shutting the closet door behind him and going back over to the two men. “You can take him now, if you want.”

 

“He seems better off with you,” Balthazar replied.

 

“That’s what I thought,” Dean sneered, rubbing his jaw where the bristles made contact.

 

“Anyways, Cassie.” Balthazar continued, reaching into his pocket. “I heard there was a mix-up and you were still alive and brought you some gift cards.”

 

“Ooh good, now you can waste your own money on weird shit,” Dean replied.

 

“I don’t waste money,” Cas replied.

 

“You just have no concept of it,” Dean replied.

 

Castiel took the cards out of his hand and looked at them. “Visa, Target, Jo-Ann’s Crafts, and Castle Superstores…”

 

“Really, Balthazar?” Dean sighed. “Castle?”

 

“Why not?” Balthazar replied.

 

Castiel set them in his pocket and looked back up. “Bye.”

 

“What? That’s it?” Balthazar scoffed.

 

“Yeah,” Cas said. “Bye.”

 

Balthazar looked at him in awe.

 

“Dean, get the broom,” Cas sang.

 

“Okay! I’m leaving!” Balthazar groaned, backing away from him.

 

“Buh-bye, bitch,” Cas teased.

 

Dean took a deep sigh and walked Balthazar over to the front door, opening it for him.

 

“Buh-bye, bitch,” Dean repeated cockily.

 

“Sod off,” Balthazar grumbled, pulling the door shut behind him as he left.

 

Dean locked the door and went back to Cas, who was standing in the same spot staring blankly ahead.

 

“Cas?” Dean said, going up to him and putting his hand on Cas’s shoulder.

 

“Yeah?” Cas replied.

 

“You okay there?” Dean asked.

 

“Why did he do it?”

 

“What?”

 

“Why did he cheat on me?” Cas continued. “Was it something I did?”

 

“No,” Dean sighed. “It was never anything you did. You were nothing but good to him. You were good to everyone. No one deserves to be cheated on. It wasn’t you–it was his own inability to keep his dick tamed.”

 

“Really?” Cas asked.

 

“Really,” Dean answered.

 

“He seemed nice,” Cas replied.

 

“He was. Aside from his lack of self control when it came to sleeping around, he was good to you,” Dean said. “I don’t think you ever fully recovered from what he did to you.”

 

“Hm,” Cas looked over at Dean and tilted his head a little. “Did you ever cheat on me?”

 

“No, no of course not.” Dean shook his head. “I would never have done anything like that to you.”

 

“Oh. Okay,” Cas said. “Thanks.”

 

“For not cheating on you?” Dean laughed.

 

“No, for telling me,” Cas replied.

 

“Well, that’s what I’m here for isn’t it?” Dean asked.

 

“I thought you were here to let me free load off you,” Cas stated.

 

“That, too,” Dean chuckled, ruffling Cas’s hair. “Why don’t you start putting away the groceries and I’ll finish cleaning the bedroom?”

 

“Okay, Dean,” Cas replied, taking a sharp breath and opening one of the bags on the counter.


	12. Chapter 12

“Dean,” Cas said quietly, nudging his shoulder.

 

“Yeah, Cas?” Dean replied half asleep.

 

“I can’t sleep,” Cas stated.

 

“You want some Benadryl?”

 

“No,”

 

“What do you want me to do about it then?” Dean asked.

 

“Can we just lay here and talk?” Cas replied.

 

“Uh–“ Dean paused and pulled the string on the lamp to turn it on and then rolled over towards him. “–Sure.”

 

“What do you want to talk about?” Cas asked.

 

“How was your day?” Dean replied.

 

“I don’t know,” Cas said.

 

Dean laughed lightly. “You don’t know?”

 

“I mean, I guess it was okay,” Cas mused. “Not much happened.”

 

“So?”

 

“You went to work,” Cas began. “I didn’t want to sit home doing nothing, so I went to the park.”

 

“Which park?” Dean asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Cas replied. “It’s the one near the store. The one with the lake,”

 

“That was your favorite park.” Dean grinned sentimentally.

 

“It was?”

 

“Yeah,” Dean said. “When we first got together, we snuck out and went skinny dipping there in the middle of the night.”

 

“Why?” Cas asked.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, why would we do that?” Cas replied.

 

“You wanted to,” Dean answered. “It was all your idea.”

 

“Well, I tried to go swimming in the lake today,” Cas continued. But I didn’t realize there were critters in it, so I got chased out by a goose and ran sopping wet across the playground trying to get rid of it and then had to go all the way home in my wet underwear,”

 

“That’s a lot more entertaining than I imagined your trip to the park was going to go,” Dean snickered. “So what after that?”

 

“Well, I took a warm shower and then put clothes on and went to get lunch,” Cas stated. “I hailed an Uber and went to this Mexican diner I’ve seen ads for.”

 

“Did it give you the shits?” Dean asked.

 

“What?” Cas scoffed. “No, it was delicious.”

 

“Gonna have to take me there sometime, then,” Dean mused.

 

“We should. I loved it,” Cas said. “I ordered a whole bunch of churros.”

 

“For dessert?” Dean asked.

 

“No, that was the whole meal. Just a bunch of churros. I brought some home if you want to try them,” Cas stated.

 

“How much did that cost?” Dean replied.

 

“I don’t know. I didn’t look, just swiped,” Cas sighed.

 

“God, I really need to take your credit card away,” Dean muttered.

 

“Hey, it’s for food,” Cas protested. “I need food to eat.”

 

“You need to learn some money management is what you need,” Dean chuckled.

 

“Anyways, then I came home and watched the weather until you got home,” Cas stated.

 

“You what?” Dean laughed.

 

“I watched the weather for a few hours,” Cas replied.

 

“Good grief,” Dean sighed. “How?”

 

“It’s interesting!” Cas insisted.

 

“Watching the forecast over and over again is interesting?” Dean asked skeptically.

 

“Well, not just the forecast,” Cas stated.

 

“Oh you mean the programs about tornados and shit, right?”

 

“No, I meant the ads,” Cas said.

 

“You are bizarre. Absolutely bizarre.” Dean replied.

 

“Is that typical for people that rose from the dead?” Cas asked.

 

“No, that’s typical for you though,” Dean added.

 

“Then you came home and we had dinner, you know,” Cas finished. “You know everything else that we did.”

 

Dean nodded. “You tired yet?”

 

“No.” Cas shook his head.

 

“God dammit,” Dean hissed.

 

“Am I bothering you?” Cas asked, leaning in close to him and smiling.

 

“Absolutely,” Dean laughed.

 

“Good,” Cas replied.

 

“You are very bothersome,” Dean stated. “Extremely.”

 

“What fun would life be if I didn’t have someone to bother?” Cas asked.

 

“You could have fun by doing other things,” Dean said.

 

“Like what?” Cas replied.

 

“I don’t know…” Dean muttered.

 

“Like making sweet love to you?” Cas asked, pulling himself on top of Dean and kissing him.

 

Dean made a loud squealing noise of surprise and Cas pulled away.

 

“What?” Cas asked. “Are you okay?”

 

“What are you doing?” Dean replied, mouth hanging open.

 

“Making sweet love to you?” Cas replied. “Because I love you.”

 

Dean raised his eyebrows at him trying to process what he just said.

 

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” Cas asked.

 

 _Cas was back to being himself again_. Now it made sense.

 

“Yeah,” Dean said with a smile. “I love you.”

 

“I love you,” Cas stated, going back to kissing him. “God, Dean, I love you.”

 

“I miss hearing you say that,” Dean breathed, raising his arms so Cas could take off his shirt.

 

“I miss saying it,” Cas countered, going back to kiss him.

 

“Are you back?” Dean asked.

 

“Yeah,” Cas said, giving Dean a nod.

 

“For good?”

 

“I don’t know,” Cas said. “But I hope so. This feels permanent.”

 

“God, I hope it is,” Dean sighed. “Other you is an asshole.”

 

“Hey, other me is still some part me,” Cas replied.

 

"I find that hard to believe." Dean said.

 

"Hey, he's just me without a formative childhood," Cas stated.

 

"Well, thank God you have a formative childhood then," Dean snickered, grabbing the hem of Cas's shirt and pulling it up.

 

Cas took his shirt off the rest of the way and went back to kissing Dean. Dean put his arms around Cas's neck and then made a noise of curiosity.

 

"What?" Cas asked.

 

Dean pulled away from Cas and started touching his right arm, looking it over.

 

"Your scar is missing," Dean stated.

 

Cas looked down at his upper arm and frowned. "Yeah, it is."

 

"That's weird," Dean mused, running his fingers over the smooth skin. "You always hated that scar anyways,"

 

"I did," Cas said, still looking at the area. "It feels wrong to not have it though."

 

"It does," Dean agreed. "I wonder if your tattoos are gone, too?"

 

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Cas purred, grabbing onto Dean's hand and pulling it down the waistband of his pants.

 

"Indeed," Dean chuckled, sitting up and pulling the waistband of Cas's shorts down and out from underneath him. Cas extended his legs so Dean could take them all the way off and then pulled himself back up closer to him.

 

"Well, your stupid ass black square is gone," Dean said.

 

"Hey, it wasn't stupid!" Cas protested.

 

"You literally had 'dumbass' written on your leg in Chinese and covered it up with a giant black bar. That's as stupid as it gets, Cas," Dean replied.

 

"Well, I liked it," Cas stated.

 

"Of course you would," Dean mused. Sliding his hand around to the back of Cas's leg. "Turn around."

 

Cas rearranged himself so he was on his hands and knees near the foot of the bed and Dean could see his back.

 

"Your bee is gone, too," Dean continued, kissing the side of Cas's hip.

 

"God dammit," Cas grumbled. "That's my favorite."

 

Dean straightened up and looked over Cas towards his back. "That horrifying cat tattoo is gone, thank God."

 

"Hey, you know you liked it," Cas replied. "It wasn't that bad, either."

 

"It had these bug-eyes and the fur was so dark and the eyes were so light and the mouth was all mangled. Why do you think I never took you from behind if you didn't have a shirt on?"

 

"Hey, for the record, Mr. Wiggles was a lot cuter than he was depicted." Cas argued.

 

"I sure hope so," Dean retorted, kissing the back of Cas's neck and starting to kiss his way down.

 

"Oh my God," Cas breathed.

 

"What?" Dean asked.

 

"I'm a virgin again!" Cas exclaimed.

 

"You are!" Dean laughed, giggling into Cas's skin. "Guess we're just gonna have to do something about that, aren't we?"

 

"I _did_ always wish you were the one that deflowered me," Cas hummed.

 

"Oh God, don't call it that," Dean groaned, now sitting back on his feet.

 

"Well, would you rather I say that you took my womanhood?" Cas asked.

 

"Did you develop this attitude in heaven?" Dean replied. "Because I don't remember you being this sassy when you were alive."

 

"Well, it's over a decade of pent up sass that I wasn't able to get out," Cas stated.

 

"I guess we'll just have to get it out of your system one way or another," Dean growled, placing his finger at Cas's tailbone and dragging it downward, making Cas shiver and gasp as it dipped inside him momentarily.

 

"You like that, do you?" Dean sang, bringing his finger back up the other direction and stopping right over the sensitive ring of muscle, teasing the edges with his finger tip, Cas making pleasured sighs in front of him.

 

"I'll take that as a yes," Dean hummed, putting his finger in his mouth and then starting to slowly push it inside of Cas.

 

"Definitely a yes," Cas replied, tightening up around Dean's finger.

 

Dean flexed his finger around, moving it around inside of him. Cas made a loud whining noise and Dean laughed at him.

 

"This is just one finger, man," Dean giggled. "You've got a big storm coming."

 

"God, that's just one?" Cas asked.

 

Dean snickered and removed his finger out of him. "Just one."

 

"Oh my," Cas breathed.

 

Dean grinned to himself as he began holding Cas open, watching the muscles contract at the open air touching the skin.

 

Dean brought his face close to him and began running his tongue around the opening.

 

"Oh God, Dean," Cas moaned, accidentally pushing back and hitting Dean in the nose.

 

"Ow!" Dean yelled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Watch it there,"

 

"Sorry," Cas hissed, trying not to laugh.

 

Dean sighed and went back, dipping his tongue inside of Cas. He used the tip of his tongue to stimulate the sensitive nerves inside, pulling it back and forth and around.

 

Cas was already tensely fidgeting on the bed, clenching his teeth and moaning loudly.

 

"You're like a teenage boy," Dean chuckled, pulling up.

 

"You try going without sex for fifteen years and see how you fare," Cas replied.

 

"Hey, I went quite a few there for a while," Dean mused, placing his lips back up against Cas's ass and plunging his tongue inside. Cas made a higher pitched squeak at the sudden return of sensation.

 

Dean quickly ran his tongue around, flicking it back and forth and from side to side, making Cas moan rather loudly. Dean then reached up and rubbed the back of Cas's cheek with his hand and then dragged his hand back down his back, his fingertips lightly running against his skin.

 

"Dean–" Cas began, stopping to take a deep breath.

 

"What?" Dean asked, pulling up briefly to respond before going back down.

 

"U–uhm" Cas stammered. "Uhm"

 

"What?" Dean repeated.

 

Cas made a whimpering noise and came, come landing in spurts on the bedsheets beneath him.

 

"Whoops" he whispered.

 

"God fucking dammit, Cas," Dean groaned, sitting up. "We hadn't even gotten to the good stuff yet."

 

"Sorry," Cas giggled.

 

"Apparently you really do have the sensitivity of a teenage boy," Dean muttered.

 

"Hey, I can't help it," Cas replied, rolling over onto his back in his spot on the bed. "But thanks. I should be able to sleep now."

 

"Wait, sleep?" Dean scoffed.

 

"Yeah, that did the trick," Cas stated.

 

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," Dean groaned, crawling up and lying in bed next to Cas. "Oh shit."

 

"What now?" Cas slurred.

 

"I'm laying in spunk," Dean grumbled. "Why couldn't we have done this on your side?"

 

Cas just made a humming noise and rolled over to face the wall.

 

"It's okay you don't have to apologize," Dean sneered, turning off the light and sticking his hand down his underwear.

* * *

Dean woke up the next morning feeling happy. Sticky, but happy. He rolled over and pulled Cas into a cuddle, gently kissing his cheeks.

 

Cas began stirring, making small noises as he began waking up.

 

"Morning," Dean whispered, kissing the side of his face.

 

"Dean, what the fuck!" Cas yelled, kicking against Dean and rolling off the edge of the bed to get away from him.

 

"What?" Dean scoffed. "What the fuck _you_?"

 

"What are you doing?" Cas asked.

 

"Kissing you, what does it look like?" Dean replied.

 

"Why?"

 

"What do you mean, _why_?" Dean huffed.

 

"Just because we had sex one time does not mean we're in a relationship," Cas stated, pulling the comforter off the bed and over himself. "I know I don't know much about this generation, but I know that that hasn't changed."

 

"But last night," Dean protested. "You weren't like this. You kept saying you loved me."

 

"Okay, yes, when I initiated the whole thing, I _was_ a different person and all I wanted to do was fuck you, but I got over it. And hey, it felt nice, so I let you keep going," Cas explained.

 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Dean groaned.

 

"Hey you were teeth deep in my ass," Cas stated. "Who was I to stop you?"

 

"The least you could have done would have been to let me know that I wasn't even sleeping with my boyfriend!" Dean exclaimed.

 

"You never were!" Cas argued. "I'm not your boyfriend. Everytime you think I am, is just some lapse in judgement, lapse in who I am."

 

"No, it's you going back to who you should be. This isn't who you're supposed to be," Dean scoffed.

 

"I'm not your boyfriend, and I never will be," Cas said. "I am a god damn zombie and not the same person you put in the ground fifteen years ago."

 

Dean made a noise of disbelief and huffed. "You know what? You are rude–"

 

"Okay," Cas hummed.

 

"And obnoxious–" Dean continued.

 

"Mhm."

 

"And I can't stand you!" Dean yelled. "And I'm going to shower!"

 


	13. Chapter 13

"Alright, Dean," Cas began, sitting down on the couch next to Dean. It'd been a few days since they got in that fight and neither of them had really talked to each other much.

 

"What, Cas?" Dean snapped.

 

"The other night, when we uh…"

 

"You mean when you tricked me into eating your ass under the guise that you were my boyfriend," Dean interjected.

 

"Or we had sex, that works, too," Cas replied.

 

"Pretty one sided sex, if you ask me," Dean snorted.

 

"Come on," Cas sighed. "The other night, you said that I was missing scars and tattoos."

 

"Yeah, you are," Dean stated. "It's like you're a completely blank slate. It's like when you died, you didn't die, they just wiped you of everything that made you you."

 

"What all is missing?" Cas asked.

 

"I have pictures," Dean said.

 

"Can I see them?"

 

"I guess," Dean responded, getting up from the couch. "Give me a second,"

 

Dean went into their bedroom and into his closet and got out a shoebox. It was old and weak, but had been painted with glitter and bright colors and had tiny drawings all over it.

 

Dean came back into the room, carrying it as gently as he would a baby. "I used to want to be a photographer for a while, so I took a lot of pictures of you and of us, together."

 

"What the hell is that?" Cas asked.

 

"You and I decorated it together," Dean replied, setting it down and lightly brushing some dust off of it. "I haven't really gotten into it in a while."

 

Dean opened the top of the shoe box, dust erupting into the air, making both of them cough. Dean set the lid down on the table next to the box and picked a stack of Polaroids off it.

 

Before Dean could really look at them, Cas took the stack from his hand and started looking at them himself.

 

"Whoa, it's me!" Cas exclaimed.

 

"Yeah, yeah it is," Dean said, watching Cas rifle through the stack in his head.

 

"Why is there so much porn in here?" Cas asked.

 

"You were a beautiful subject," Dean answered.

 

"Nothing says beauty like–Oh my God! Whose semen is that on my face?" Cas scoffed, holding a photo over at Dean.

 

Dean smiled at it fondly. Cas was sitting on the bed laughing, his face covered in bits of white.

 

"Mine, who else's would it be?" he replied.

 

"I don't know." Cas shrugged. "But that's an odd thing to take a photo of."

 

"It wasn't for us," Dean stated. "We had these photos that we could do anything with, that only we would see, so we had fun with some of them."

 

"I must have been a freak," Cas retorted.

 

"No, neither of us were that freaky," Dean said, grabbing Cas's hand. "There, see, you can see the scar on your arm there."

 

Cas looked at the photo that he was about to set down. "Why is my skin all fucked up there?"

 

"You burnt yourself," Dean explained, placing his hand at the top of Cas's arm. "It was right about here. You and your brother were cooking in the kitchen and he went to move the hot pan, and he tripped and fell on you and the pan landed on your arm. It was when you were really young."

 

"Hm," Cas mused, looking over at where Dean was touching him.

 

He looked through a few more pictures before there was a shot of another tattoo - Chinese characters written vertically on his right thigh.

 

"What's that?" Cas asked. "Japanese?"

 

"Chinese," Dean corrected, "You wanted to get 'forever' in Chinese as a tribute to us, basically, but the tattoo artist thought it was dumb and was tired of all these people getting Chinese tattoos of words they didn't even know, so he put the Chinese for 'dumbass' on there."

 

"That seems equally fitting as a tribute to you," Cas mused, giving Dean a half-smile.

 

"Well, finally we realized what it said, so we went for a cover up, but you couldn't afford anything that fancy, so you literally had them cover it up by tattooing a giant black bar over the whole thing," Dean continued.

 

"Oh God," Cas groaned. "What else?"

 

"Well," Dean took the pile of photos out of Cas's hands and ran through them quickly, pulling a few out and handing the rest back to him. "You had yet another cheap tattoo job–your family cat tattooed on your back, left shoulder."

 

Dean turned the photo around and handed it to him.

 

"Oh my God!" Cas exclaimed. "What even is that?"

 

"Your family cat," Dean stated. "Done by a really, really cheap tattoo parlor."

 

"Yikes," Cas hissed. "Those eyes…"

 

"I know," Dean snorted, handing him another photo. "You had this tongue piercing, too."

 

Cas took the photo and looked at it. He was laughing and his mouth was open, and he could see a plastic, neon ball sitting almost center in his mouth. Almost. Cas stuck out his tongue and looked at it. "I kept it?"

 

"Til the day you died," Dean replied.

 

"I must have been so lame," Cas scoffed.

 

"You were," Dean said.

 

"What the hell is that?" Cas asked, looking over in Dean's hands at the last photo he'd taken out.

 

"Oh." Dean smiled as he passed it over. "That's a bumblebee."

 

"A bee?" Cas scoffed. "Who drew it? An epileptic toddler?"

 

"It was your favorite tattoo," Dean said. "If you had to just choose one to keep, it would be that one."

 

"Why?" Cas asked.

 

"I don't know," Dean replied. "But it was your favorite."

 

"I need a better tattoo artist," Cas muttered, setting it back down on the table and looking through the photos in his hands. "Wait, the bee was on my ass?"

 

"Yep," Dean said. "Right on your right asscheek,"

 

"What was wrong with me?" Cas sighed.

 

"Quite a bit, really," Dean chuckled. "But nothing that didn't make me love you even more."

 

"I wouldn't have loved me if I looked like this," Cas retorted.

 

"Well, good thing you had me to love you then," Dean said. "You know, I have an idea."

 

"Oh no," Cas sighed.

 

"What if your body was closer to your actual body when you died? I wonder if that would help you remember who you are?" Dean asked.

 

"I don't need to remember," Cas replied. "And I don't want to opt in to hurting myself."

 

"You do need to remember," Dean argued. "Don't you want to feel something?"

 

"What?"

 

"You seem dead inside to me," Dean replied. "Do you even feel anything?"

 

"Of course I feel things," Cas snorted. "And I'm _un_ dead inside, thank you very much."

 

"I still think you should go get the tattoos and piercing and those things that made you who you were," Dean said.

 

"I don't want to," Cas argued.

 

"Please? We can just start with one tattoo and the tongue?" Dean begged. "If you really don't like them, we can get them covered up later. They have all kinds of good cover up and removal technology now."

 

Cas stared at him for a moment before sighing. "Fine."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, I missed the middle of the week update last week, but if any of you took part in Misha's puzzle bullshit, you'll know why. You'll understand. You will sympathize.

Dean and Cas sat next to each other inside a tattoo parlor waiting for their turn.

 

"At least this place seems nicer than the places I must have gotten my tattoos from in the first place," Cas mused, looking around.

 

"It definitely is," Dean replied. "But don't get your hopes up - we need an exact replica of your tattoos, no matter how shitty."

 

Cas groaned and hit the back of his head against the wall. "Can I at least get the small one first? That black bar? That should be easy enough."

 

"I think you should get the bumblebee," Dean said.

 

"Why?" Cas asked,.

 

"Because it was your favorite," Dean stated.

 

"Well, I don't want to," Cas argued. "It's shitty and poorly drawn and it looks terrible."

 

"Come on," Dean pleaded.

 

"No, look at the thing!" Cas protested.

 

"I have," Dean said. "Many times."

 

"It doesn't help that it's on my ass, either," Cas grumbled.

 

"Come on, Cas," Dean sang. "It was your favorite. If anything is going to help you remember, it'd be that one."

 

Cas glared at Dean, narrowing his eyes.

 

"Hey, if you don't like it, no one's ever going to see it anyway." Dean added. "It's not often that you go in public with your ass hanging out. The only person that would ever see it would be me, or you if you really turned around."

 

"Why you?" Cas asked.

 

"Or just you. That works, too," Dean stated.

 

"That's what I thought," Cas huffed. "But if I have to get this shitty wasp on my ass, I want to know why I liked it so much."

 

"I'm not telling you," Dean replied. "I want you to remember on your own."

 

"And what if I don't?" Cas asked.

 

"You will eventually," Dean replied.

 

"What if you're completely wrong and I never fully remember who I'm 'supposed to be'?" Cas argued.

 

"I don't think you're going to stay this way forever," Dean said, looking up as Cas's name was called.

 

He took Cas by the arm and pulled him up with him, Cas dawdling alongside him to go see the artist in charge of his tattoo.

 

"What are you looking to get today?" the artist asked. "You said you already had a drawing of what you needed?"

 

"Well, it's a photograph if that would work for you," Dean said, reaching into the pocket of his jacket and handing him the Polaroid that showed the tattoo the clearest.

 

"Yeah, just give me a little bit to redraw this and transfer it and I'll show you and see what you think."

 

"Alright." Dean gave him a smile and took Cas's arm again to go back to the seat.

* * *

After twenty minutes, the tattoo artist came back, motioning at Dean as he caught his eye.

 

"Come on," Dean said, getting up from the waiting chairs and going over to the artist.

 

"How does this look?" he asked, showing Dean and Cas the design on the transfer paper.

 

"Perfect," Dean replied, letting the artist hand him back the Polaroid.

 

"Then we're all ready," the artist chided. "Castiel, is it?"

 

"Yeah." Cas nodded.

 

"Alright, Castiel," he began, walking back through a curtained area. "If you want to get undressed and get on the table, I'll get everything ready."

 

"Oh God," Cas grumbled to himself, unbuckling his jeans.

 

He got his pants and underwear completely off and then laid down on the table on his stomach, looking off to the side.

 

"I'm just going to transfer this onto your skin and tell me if you like the placement," the artist stated. "Mind if I take another quick look at that photo?"

 

Dean took the photo out and held it up for him to see. The artist nodded and Dean put it away again.

 

The tattoo artist wet down Cas's skin with a bottle and then pressed the transfer paper down, applying gentle pressure all around before lifting it and revealing the crisp outline of the bee.

 

"That placement is perfect," Dean said, looking at the outline.

 

"I can tell you're just checking me out," Cas snapped. "Stop it."

 

Dean snickered and went over to stand where Cas could see him. "That obvious?"

 

"Ugh," Cas grimaced.

 

The tattoo artist cleaned the area and got the tattoo gun ready. "First, we're going to start with the outline."

 

"Okay," Cas said, taking a deep sigh and getting comfortable.

 

The artist began tracing the outline with the needle, a dark trail of ink slowly following in its path. He stopped for a second to wipe the ink out of the way and then continued.

 

"Are you okay?" Dean asked, looking at him.

 

"Yeah, fine," Cas replied.

 

"You sure?" Dean scoffed.

 

"Of course I'm sure," Cas stated. "Why?"

 

"Well, the first time you got this, you whined like a baby the entire time," Dean said.

 

"Huh," Cas mused.

 

"Something must have happened in your life to make you really afraid of ass tattoos," Dean chuckled.

 

"No, nothing did," Cas stated.

 

"What do you mean?" Dean asked. "You were freaking out. You made me hold your hand for comfort and everything."

 

"No I didn't." Cas replied.

 

"Yes, you did. I was there, I remember." Dean argued.

 

"No, I did make you hold my hand, but I was just faking it because I wanted you to," Cas explained. "I wasn't actually really in pain, you know?"

 

"You remember that?" Dean asked.

 

Cas nodded.

 

Dean laughed a little and ruffled his hair. "That's really adorable yet pathetic."

 

"Tell me about it," Cas sneered. "I was an idiot."

 

"No, just in love," Dean said.

 

"Same thing," Cas sighed.

 

"You're snotty," Dean stated.

 

"Good," Cas replied.

 

"I can't wait to get that tongue piercing in you so you won't be able to bitch at me for a few days." Dean mused.

 

"Wait, we're doing that today?" Cas groaned.

 

"They're having a promo," Dean said. "So why not?"

 

Cas sighed loudly and looked straight ahead, resting his chin on the pillow in front of him. "I can't believe this is my life."

 

"Me neither, buster," Dean chuckled. "Me neither."


	15. Chapter 15

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, stepping into the room.

 

Cas was on all fours with his head looking under the couch.

 

"I can't find the TV remote," Cas stated.

 

"You mean the one that's sitting right next to the TV?" Dean asked.

 

"What?" Cas poked his head up and looked at the stand the TV sat on. "What's it doing there?"

 

"I was cleaning, Cas," Dean ssaid. "I set it there so I could dust the table."

 

"Oh," Cas breathed, standing up off the ground and pulling his pants back up to his waist.

 

Dean went over and grabbed the TV remote, walking over to Cas in front of the couch. "Here."

 

"Thanks," Cas said, taking it from his hand.

 

"I have something for you, by the way," Dean added.

 

"What?" Cas asked.

 

"Let me go get it," Dean said. "I'll be right back."

 

Dean playfully hit Cas on the ass and he yelped loudly.

 

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Dean?!" Cas yelled, gently rubbing the tender area.

 

"Well, when you first got that bee tattoo, I forgot you had it and I slapped you really hard and it hurt so bad you cried and then I let you punch me in my tattoo to feel better," Dean explained. "You don't remember that?"

 

"No!" Cas groaned. "I don't remember shit! That fucking hurt, you idiot!"

 

"Sorry," Dean hissed.

 

"My tongue is swollen and my ass is swollen and everything hurts," Cas grumbled.

 

"Let me just go get those things for you," Dean sighed, smiling awkwardly.

 

"Get me an ice pack too, you monster!" Cas huffed, sitting down gently on the couch.

 

"Here," Dean said, returning with an ice pack in one hand and a bag from Michael's in the other.

 

Cas begrudgingly took the ice pack and slid it underneath him, sighing in relief at the cool feeling. "What's that?"

 

Dean silently opened the bag and began setting things in front of him–a sketch pad, a variety of pencils of different weights, a sharpener, erasers, multi-liners, charcoal, and some tortillions.

 

"What the hell do you expect me to the do with thesse?" Cas scoffed.

 

"Draw," Dean stated.

 

"Draw?" Cas laughed. "I don't know what any of these things even are."

 

"Yes you do," Dean said. "I got everything that I remembered seeing you work with. You used to love drawing."

 

"Well, I don't know how to draw now," Cas stated, picking up a pencil. "I mean what's the difference between HB and 2B pencils? What does it stand for? And what is _this_?" he picked up the longest tortillion and held it up. "Is this a unicorn horn?"

 

"No, I think it's used for blending," Dean answered. "So come on, Cas, just try. Just do some scribbles or something. Just play around, okay?"

 

Cas rolled his eyes and drew a single line on the paper. "Happy?"

 

"No," Dean groaned. "Actually try, don't be like this. You liked people watching, try drawing a person maybe?"

 

Cas put the pencil back to the paper and then held it up, giving Dean a snarky smile.

 

"I don't mean a stick figure," Dean sighed. "Please, Cas. You know how to draw, you know what this is. Stop fighting this."

 

"Dean, I don't know any of this," Cas groaned. "I'm not just going to magically know how to draw."

 

"You know what, Cas?" Dean grumbled, standing up. "I am tired this. I'm tired of your attitude, your unwillingness to try, and everything. All I want is for you to remember who you are and to be yourself again, but it's like you're happy living in this disaster."

 

"I am, quite," Cas replied.

 

"I am going to get very drunk right now," Dean said. "Have a nice night being a total asshole and alienating the only person who's trying to help you."

 

"Well, that's a bit harsh," Cas muttered, tossing the pencil off into the room.

 

Dean angrily walked over and picked it up and threw it at the couch next to Cas. "Asshole."

 

"Hey you're the one throwing sharp projectiles at people," Cas said.

* * *

Dean came back late, not quite as drunk as he’d hoped to be, but his card got declined at some point and he couldn’t order anymore.

 

“You still awake?” Dean hummed, noticing the lights still on.

 

“Dean?” Cas called.

 

“You okay?” Dean asked, noticing the shakiness in his voice.

 

“I’m fine, but…” Cas said, trailing off.

 

“But what?” Dean replied, making his way over to him.

 

“Look,” Cas whispered, standing up and pulling the papers in his hands.

 

Dean met him halfway and took the papers out of his hands.

 

“I don’t know how to draw,” Cas stated.

 

“Apparently you do,” Dean replied. “I told you you did.”

 

“Yeah, but, a few hours ago I couldn’t do anything,” Cas said. “And then I just, _knew_.”

 

“These are gorgeous,” Dean said, looking through them, but gasping a little at one page. “Do you recognize this?”

 

Dean turned the paper over and pointed to a blooming flower Cas had drawn. Cas shook his head.

 

“I just drew it,” Cas said. “No reason.”

 

“You sure?” Dean asked.

 

“I’m sure,” Cas stated. “Why?”

 

Dean handed the papers back to Cas and started undoing his pants.

 

“Dean, what the fuck are you doing?”

 

Dean just pulled the waistband of his pants down, revealing the tattoo he had just above his right hip, a flower identical to the one Cas drew.

 

“Is that…” Cas stared at it in awe and looked down at the papers in his hand. “It’s the same.”

 

“Yeah.” Dean nodded.

 

Cas lets the papers fall out of his hands as he reaches behind his ear for his sharpened charcoal. He bent down and slowly traced over the lines, Dean standing still and letting him.

 

Cas dropped the pencil on the ground and then started smudging the charcoal around with his fingers before looking up at Dean and laughing.

 

“We got these together,” he said, giggling.

 

Dean nodded down at him.

 

“They’re–they’re sex jokes,” Cas continued. “My bee pollinates your flower whenever you–well you pollinate me,”

 

Dean laughed along with him and Cas stood back up and caressed his face, dragging his hands down Dean’s cheeks and off his jaw. Cas looked at him for a moment, gazing into his eyes in silence before grabbing his face again and kissing him.

 

Dean inhaled sharply with surprise, but quickly relaxed into Cas’s touches, his fingers running up through Dean’s hair. The two of them stood there for what felt to Dean like eternity, Dean standing still as Cas just touched him and kissed him until Cas pushed Dean way and gasped.

 

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” Cas huffed, glaring at Dean as his mouth turned up in a grin on one side. “Stop it.”

 

“I was right,” Dean said, now smiling widely. “I was right!”

 

“You were right,” Cas grumbled. “Go wash your face, you’re covered in charcoal.”

 

Dean pulled his lips into his mouth and looked at Cas.

 

“You’re still smiling,” Cas stated. “That’s not helping.”

 

Dean snorted and then turned to go towards the bathroom and clean his face.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After last night, I'm so glad this chapter is a fluffy one. Thank God.

Dean went back into the bedroom as he heard Cas’s alarm go off again. He went over and started shaking Cas awake.

 

“Hrm,” Cas groaned, rolling over away from Dean.

 

“Cas, come on, get up,” Dean said, shaking his shoulder gently.

 

“Why?” Cas finally mumbled.

 

“You okay?” Dean asked. “You slept through your alarm three times,”

 

“Shut that thing off,” Cas snapped, pulling the pillow over his head.

 

Dean reached over and pulled the plug out from the wall and took the pillow out of Cas’s hands.

 

“There,” Dean said.

 

“I have a horrible headache,” Cas stated, looking up at him. “And my throat hurts and I hurt all over and–ugh. I thought it was just allergies yesterday, but this is so much worse.”

 

“Alright, why don’t you go back to sleep and when you wake up, I’ll have some medicine for you and I’ll make you soup?” Dean offered.

 

“That sounds great to me,” Cas groaned, snuggling down under the blankets again. “Goodnight, Dean.”

 

“Night, Cas,” Dean chuckled getting back up and shutting the blinds in the room.

* * *

“Dean!” Cas called from the bedroom, voice croakier than usual.

 

“You up?” Dean asked, sticking his head in the doorway.

 

“Yeah,” Cas replied. “What time is it?”

 

“A little after noon,” Dean answered, sitting next to him on the side of the bed and running his hand through Cas’s hair. “You feeling okay?”

 

“Not really,” Cas said.

 

“You still have that headache?” Dean asked.

 

“Yeah,” Cas groaned.

 

“Alright, I went to the store and got you some medicine. Let me get it for you.”

 

“Okay,” Cas replied, taking a stuffy sniff.

 

“I got you decongestants, too,” Dean added, patting him on the arm as he stood up.

 

Dean returned with a glass of water and a few pills in his hand. “Here,” he said, setting them on the bedside table and helping Cas sit up.

 

He handed Cas the pills and he put them in his mouth, then Dean held the glass of water up to his lips. Cas took a few sips and then pulled away so Dean could put the glass back down.

 

“What kind of soup do you want?” Dean asked.

 

“You’re treating me like I’m seven,” Cas said. “God, Dean.”

 

“The more you rest, the quicker you’ll get better. The quicker you get better, the less the chances are that you’re gonna spread something nasty to me,” Dean stated.

 

“I don’t care what flavor,” Cas replied. “Isn’t chicken the usual for sickness?”

 

“Yeah,” Dean answered. “I can do chicken.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“I’ll be quick,” Dean said. “Don’t have too much fun.”

 

“I won’t,” Cas stated.

 

“You want your phone or my laptop or something?” Dean asked.

 

“No.” Cas shook his head. “I don’t want any noise right now.”

 

“Okay.” Dean ruffled his hair again and took a deep breath. “You need anything?”

 

“No.”

 

“Be back soon, then,” Dean said, giving him a smile.

 

Cas responded with a silent nod and slunk back down into a lying position.

* * *

Dean returned after a little bit with a metal tray and a large, plastic bowl sitting on top of it.

 

“That smells delicious,” Cas hummed, groaning as he pushed himself back up to a sitting position.

 

“You should have let me help you up,” Dean stated, frowning at him in disapproval.

 

“I’m sick, not a paraplegic, Dean,” Cas said, reaching out for the tray.

 

“I know, but I want to help you as much as possible,” Dean replied, setting the tray onto his lap. “I included some bread and cut it into sticks in case you wanted to dip it in the soup.”

 

“Who does that?” Cas asked.

 

“You did,” Dean stated.

 

“That’s weird,” Cas said.

 

“It is,” Dean agreed, nodding at him. “But try it, you might be surprised.”

 

Cas took a stick of bread and tentatively dipped it in the bowl, taking it out and letting it drip back into the bowl as he blew on it. He then brought it to his lips and Dean looked at him expectantly.

 

“Hm?”

 

“This is pretty good,” Cas replied.

 

“Told you,” Dean sang.

 

“Can I get more bread?” Cas asked.

 

“Of course, of course,” Dean responded. “I’ll be right back.

 

“Can I get it toasted?” Cas added.

 

Dean smiled at him. “I was hoping you’d ask that.”

 

Dean went back out of the room and in a few minutes returned with the bread and a basket of things, grabbing the remote for the bedroom TV off the dresser on the way in and putting it in the basket.

 

“What’s that?” Cas asked.

 

Dean set the toasted strips of bread on the tray with the others and then the basket next to him. “I brought you some tissues, chapstick, paper towels, some Vick’s to open you up, and the TV remote if you decide you want to watch something,”

 

“You act like I’m dying,” Cas replied.

 

“You probably feel like it,” Dean countered. “First time getting the flu, right?”

 

“Shit is that what this is?” Cas groaned.

 

“Probably,” Dean said. “But I’m no doctor.”

 

“I’m pretty sure you’re coddling me more than any doctor would,” Cas retorted.

 

“Now, that–that might be true,” Dean chuckled. “You need anything else?”

 

Cas shook his head.

 

“You need me to keep you company or anything?” he asked.

 

“I’m good,” Cas replied.

 

“You sure?” Dean prodded.

 

“Yes, Dean. God,” Cas groaned. “I’m sure.”

 

“Well, ain’t no flu gonna keep that attitude down, that’s for sure,” Dean snickered.

 

“Leave me alone,” Cas grumbled. “I’m sickly.”

 

“How can an undead person get sick?” Dean mused.

 

“Probably because I’m alive enough to have a non-existent immune system and contract contagious diseases despite barely leaving the house,” Cas replied.

 

“Thanks,” Dean deadpanned. “Really needed that explanation.”

 

“You asked,” Cas stated.

 

Dean sighed and smiled at him before turning away. “Yes, I did.”

 

“Dean?” Cas called.

 

Dean turned back to him.

 

“Thanks,” Cas said.

 

“No problem,” Dean replied.

* * *

* * *

* * *

“Dean,” Cas said, grabbing his arm as he stood next to him on the bed.

 

“What?”

 

“Get your ass in this bed,” Cas ordered.

 

“What?” Dean repeated, this time shocked.

 

“Get in bed,” Cas stated. “It has been three days and you have been spending every single minute cooking me meals and bringing me things and nursing me back to health. You look like shit. Take a nap.”

 

“I’m fine,” Dean insisted. “I don’t mind taking care of you. You’re not better yet.”

 

“I know I’m not better and I know you don’t mind taking care of me,” Cas sighed. “But you have done enough. I don’t feel as bad as I first did. I am not bedridden nor am I helpless. So get your ass in this bed and take a god damn nap.”

 

“You are demanding,” Dean mused.

 

“I know I am,” Cas said. “So come on, put something comfy on and relax for five minutes, would you? I’m not going to die again if you let yourself sleep for a little while.”

 

“But–“

 

“There is no but,” Cas snapped, petting the bed next to him. “So come on. I am very appreciative of you and everything you’re doing, but I’m getting better. And the flu is the flu and I will live.”

 

Dean sighed and began undoing his pants.

 

“Thank you,” Cas replied, giving Dean a snarky smile. “And I will wake you if I need something that I can not do myself, okay?”

 

“Fine,” Dean huffed, stepping out of the legs of his pants.


	17. Chapter 17

“Oh! That’s what I wanted to ask you,” Cas said.

 

“Yeah?” Dean replied, looking up at him from the other side of the couch.

 

“Some girl catcalled me today, I think,” Cas stated.

 

“Good taste,” Dean mused.

 

“Yeah, but she said that I had an ass good for tworking,” Cas continued. “What does that mean?”

 

“Tworking?” Dean laughed. “You mean twerking.”

 

“Do I?” Cas asked.

 

“You do,” Dean stated, giving him a nod.

 

“What’s it mean?”

 

“Well, twerking is like this really obnoxious dance all these girls do at the clubs or anywhere really. It’s like just shaking your ass up and down - generally on someone else,” Dean explained.

 

“That sounds embarrassing,” Cas replied.

 

“It is,” Dean said. “Trust me.”

 

“Why do people do it?”

 

“Don’t ask me,” Dean retorted. “I don’t get people. People are fucking crazy.”

 

“Wait, so what else do people say now?” Cas asked.

 

“Oh God,” Dean groaned. “We’re about to have the talk aren’t we?”

 

“What talk?”

 

“The slang talk,” Dean stated. “Let’s see, what do people say these days…Squad, Ratchet, Bae, Netflix and Chilling…”

 

“The only part of that I understood was Netflix,” Cas mused.

 

“Hold on, I’ll just pull up a list of weird shit kids say these days, because I don’t know half these things either,” Dean said, taking out his phone.

 

He spent a minute searching around before he looked up at Cas and grinned. “I think we have a winner.”

 

“I am ready to learn,” Cas stated.

 

“Alright,” Dean replied, taking a deep breath. “First up, _Ratchet_.”

 

“Ratchet,” Cas repeated.

 

“It’s pretty much like ghetto,” Dean said. “It’s like cheap and…not nice.”

 

“That’s very descriptive,” Cas replied.

 

“It’s hard to explain, okay?” Dean groaned. “Alright, and then there’s _Lit_. Lit means that something is really awesome. Like if you say something is lit, you’re saying it’s awesome and really fun.”

 

“So, having sex is lit?” Cas asked.

 

“Not quite,” Dean chuckled. “I’m talking, like ‘ _This party is so lit.’_ But don’t worry, you don’t have to say these things–just understand them.”

 

“Mhm.” Cas nodded. “Go on.”

 

“Turnt is similar to lit. Except you usually use it when talking about yourself, too. Like if you ‘want to get turnt’, you want to get really high and drunk or something. But if you say ‘this is turnt’ it’s like saying lit, essentially,” Dean continued.

 

“Got it.”

 

“Okay, these two you’ll hear a lot. Salty and Shady.” Dean started. “Salty is basically like being bitter and passive aggressive. If you’re being salty, you’re being a petty bitch basically. And being shady is similar. Throwing shade is basically saying passive aggressive and petty things.”

 

“Will I hear them a lot when people describe you?” Cas asked.

 

“Hey now,” Dean drawled.

 

“You already taught me salty though, don’t you remember?” Cas raised his eyebrows at Dean. “Because I called you peppered?”

 

“Oh, yeah! I did, didn’t I?” Dean mused, smiling to himself, Cas nodding at him. “Alright, another one people say and abuse is the word literally. I swear to God, everyone says literally before saying something that is nowhere near literal. It’s like they don’t know the definition of the word literally.”

 

“They probably don’t,” Cas replied. “Dumbing down of society and all that.”

 

“Tell me about it,” Dean snorted. “Oh God, Bae. I fucking hate bae.”

 

“Like Mandalay Bay?” Cas asked.

 

“No, bae. B-A-E,” Dean replied. “It’s like another way of saying your significant other but it’s annoying and overused and sounds like something Kim Kardashian coined.”

 

“Who?”

 

“That’s another battle for another day,” Dean groaned. “But another thing people say these days is ‘ _Netflix and Chill’_.”

 

“Is it like ice cream?” Cas asked.

 

“No, it basically means that you invite someone over to watch Netflix but really you’re just fucking them and it’s being pretentious,” Dean said.

 

“Hey, that sounds like fun to me,” Cas mused.

 

“You better not be saying any of these,” Dean snapped.

 

“Well they all sound dumb so I’ll try not to,” Cas replied.

 

“Good,” Dean sighed. “Alright, so shipping is on here–”

 

“I know UPS,” Cas stated.

 

“No, no, no.” Dean shook his head. “This is different shipping.”

 

“Like boats?” Cas asked.

 

“No, listen,” Dean ordered. “Shipping. It’s like a relationship. If you ship someone, you want them to be in a relationship. Like, like, uh, fuck, you don’t watch anything but the weather, do you?”

 

“So, I could say that I ship Jim Cantore and tornados?”

 

“Sure,” Dean snorted. “Oh, on the topic of boat words, there’s this thing called motor boating.”

 

“Motor boating?”

 

“Yeah, it’s when a guy puts his face in a woman’s breasts and like does that horse thing with his lips,” Dean said.

 

“What thing?” Cas asked.

 

“You know,” Dean drawled. “That thing horses do with their lips,”

 

“Just show me what it is,” Cas said, scooting up next to Dean and sticking out his chest.

 

“You mean on you?” Dean scoffed. “No.”

 

“Why not?” Cas asked. “You’re horrible with words.”

 

“I’m not–God, you’re serious?” Dean sighed.

 

“Yeah.” Cas nodded.

 

“Fine,” Dean groaned. “It’s basically…ugh.”

 

Dean did a sign of the cross and then put his hands on Cas’s shoulders. “I hate myself,” he muttered, putting his head down into Cas’s chest and blowing his lips out, essentially motor boating him.

 

Cas immediately started giggling and Dean pulled up from him, laughing, too.

 

“Get it?” Dean asked.

 

“Yes.” Cas nodded as he laughed, smiling down into his chest.

 

Cas stopped laughing and looked back up at Dean, still smiling. He put his hand around the back of Dean’s neck and pulled him close, then started kissing him.

 

Dean gently pulled away from Cas and swallowed nervously. “What are you doing?”

 

“Kissing you,” Cas replied.

 

“Why?” Dean asked. “Are you remembering again?”

 

“No,” Cas answered.

 

“Then what are you doing?” Dean replied. “If you’re not yourself again yet, why are you kissing me?”

 

“Because I want to,” Cas stated. “I have romantic inclinations to you, I–I think.”

 

Dean’s eyes widened at him and he pulled away further.

 

“I think I want to crush you,” Cas said.

 

“You what?” Dean scoffed.

 

“I want to crush you,” Cas repeated. “Is that not the saying?”

 

“You mean you have a crush on me?” Dean asked.

 

“Yeah! That!” Cas exclaimed.

 

“Good God,” Dean groaned, looking off to the side. “So you’re saying that…”

 

“I want to be with you now, not just when I remember things,” Cas said, leaning back into him.

 

“Um,” Dean stammered, pushing him away. “I can’t deal with this right now.”

 

“Deal with it?” Cas asked, trying to pull Dean back down to the couch as he stood up. “What do you mean deal with it? I thought you wanted this?”

 

“I just, I need a minute, okay?” Dean huffed, heading towards the bedroom.

 

Cas got up from the couch and ran behind him, but Dean shut the bedroom door in his face.

 

“You can’t just lock me out here!” Cas called, knocking on the door. “It’s my room, too!”

 

“You don’t pay the bills,” Dean grumbled from the other side of the door.

 

“I died,” Cas stated. “Isn’t that enough?”

 

Dean didn’t answer.

 

“Oh, so you’re giving me the silent treatment now?” Cas asked. “Real mature, Dean,. Real mature.”

* * *

Dean and Cas had been sitting silently on their sides of the door for well over thirty minutes at this point when Cas finally decided to break the silence.

 

“I’m not going to sit here all night, Dean,” he sighed. “I’ll have to lay here at some point and good luck opening the door then,”

 

“The door opens inwards,” Dean muttered.

 

“You ask why I wanted to kiss you,” Cas said. “Even though I’m still just me, I’ll tell you.”

 

Cas waited for a response.

 

“Oh, back to not talking?” he retorted. “Well, when you’re not being shady, you’re really nice.”

 

“And you’re handsome.”

 

“And you’re generous and you’re kind.”

 

“And you act all tough but you really just care about everyone.”

 

“And you’re funny.”

 

“And you make really good food.”

 

“And you’d make a great nurse.”

 

“And fuck, Dean,” Cas sighed. “I’ve been horrible to you. I’ve been an asshole. I’ve been a dick!”

 

“But, look at you!”

 

“All you’ve done is be nice to me, and help me, and you’re kind to me.”

 

“And you keep taking time off work and you’re not doing anything for yourself - it’s all just for me. I mean you work the bare minimum just to pay the bills and spend all the rest teaching me how this weird world works.”

 

Cas started crying from his side of the door in the hallway, trying to stop.

 

“I don’t know anything, Dean. I don’t understand people or language or technology and I’d be lost without you and you’re doing everything for me. It’s weird and it’s scary and it’s lonely and you make all that seem like nothing,” Cas whimpered. “And that’s why I wanted to kiss you, Dean.”

 

Cas swallowed a lump in his throat and pulled his legs up to his chest. After a moment, he heard the lock click on the door and looked back up. The door slowly opened and Dean looked down at him and extended his arms. Cas grabbed onto his hands and pulled himself up, Dean immediately pulling him into a hug.

 

“I’m sorry,” Cas whispered. “I thought this was what you wanted.”

 

“It is,” Dean said. “It is what I want, but, I–I’m not ready for this now and I’m not prepared and, I don’t know.”

 

“I didn’t realize that being with me again would be such a burden on you,” Cas sighed.

 

“It’s not, it’s not,” Dean protested, consolingly rubbing Cas’s back. “I don’t want you to ever think that. I’m just no expert on knowing how to cope with my dead boyfriend coming back to life over a decade later and being a completely different person but still wanting to be with me.”

 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas repeated. “Part of it is just that I’m lonely. I have no one. I just have you. And-and up in heaven it was so lonely, too. I was only up there for a few seconds really with the way time passes, but it was the loneliest few seconds of my life. I’m tired of being lonely. I don’t want to be lonely anymore.”

 

“I don’t want you to be lonely anymore either,” Dean said, pulling away from him and looking him in the eye. “So if you want me to be with you, then, I will.”

 

“I don’t want to force you to be with me if you don’t to or you’re not ready though,” Cas said.

 

“I want to, Cas,” Dean stated. “I do.”

 

Dean leaned in to him, pausing halfway for a moment before finish the motion. He pressed a quick, light kiss to Cas’s lips and then smiled softly at him. “See?”

 

Cas smiled back and looked down at the ground. “So what now?”

 

“Well…” Dean took a breath and looked away for a moment.

 

“Does this make you my bae now?” Cas asked.

 

“No!” Dean groaned, pushing Cas away. “No! You don’t get to say that!”

 

Cas started laughing as Dean rolled his eyes and then came back to him.

 

“I do think it’s past our bedtime though,” Cas said.

 

Dean turned to look at the clock behind him. “Yeah, it is.”

* * *

Dean turned off the light and turned to settle back into bed, finding Cas right in front of him and not in his usual spot on the far other side of the bed.

 

“Hi,” Dean whispered, draping his arm over Cas’s chest.

 

“Hi,” Cas replied, snuggling back into him.


	18. Chapter 18

“I’m back!” Cas called, opening the door to the house.

 

“Did you get everything I told you to?” Dean asked from down the hall.

 

“Well…”

 

“Castiel!” Dean snapped, coming into the open area and seeing Cas standing there with not a single grocery bag. “Where is the food?”

 

“I didn’t get any,” Cas muttered.

 

“You didn’t–what the hell did you get then?” Dean scoffed.

 

“Something better, don’t worry,” Cas replied, reaching into his pocket.

 

“I gave you fifty fucking dollars, Cas,” Dean stated. “For the sole reason that I didn’t want you to buy more than what we need.”

 

“But this is better than groceries,” Cas replied, pulling out a bag. “The man said it would make me feel amazing.”

 

“Cas, is that drugs?” Dean sighed, going over to him. “Oh, nice. It is drugs.”

 

“Oh shit, it’s drugs?” Cas asked. “Oh, God, I’m gonna get arrested.”

 

“You’re not gonna get arrested,” Dean replied, taking it from his hand. “It’s just an eighth.”

 

“Eighth?” Cas looked at him, brow furrowed. “What’s an eighth.”

 

“Eighth of an ounce of weed,” Dean explained. “Also equivalent to 3.5g.”

 

“Oh, this is weed?” Cas perked up in a smile. “Rad.”

 

“Cas,” Dean drawled. “We don’t say that anymore, remember?”

 

“Sorry, right. Cool,” he amended.

 

Dean took a deep sigh and looked at the bag in his hand. “Well, guess we gotta make that grocery money worth something.”

 

“Wait, what?”

 

“Sit tight,” Dean said, handing the bag back to Cas and going back to his room.

 

He returned shortly with a small metal tin and motioned Cas over to the couch.

 

“What that?” Cas asked.

 

Dean sat down no the couch and popped open the tin. “You’re gonna learn how to roll a joint.”

 

“We’re gonna smoke this?”

 

“Well, we’re not using it for decoration that’s for sure,” Dean replied, taking a paper out of the tin along with a heavier and slimmer piece.

 

“Alright, you gotta make the filter first,” he said, taking the heavier paper and beginning to fold the end. “You want to make this end into an accordion style and this will go in there and stop the weed from falling into your mouth and also will give you a bit firmer part to hold onto.”

 

Dean folded a few accordion steps in the paper and then began rolling the paper around the folded part and then held it up. “See? This is gonna fit right at the end where your mouth goes.”

 

“You seem to know what you’re doing here,” Cas mused.

 

“Hey, we all have our vices,” Dean replied, setting it aside and grabbing a thinner paper from the tin. “So you fold this in half lengthwise and here–put some in my hand.”

 

Dean put out his hand and Cas opened up the small plastic bag and put a few pinches into Dean’s palm.

 

“More,” Dean said.

 

Cas put a few more pinches onto his hand.

 

“That’s good,” he said. “So now we’re gonna put it in here really evenly.”

 

Dean poured the weed from his hand down the crease of the rolling paper, and then picked it up. “So now, you want to roll it around a little and just get it all in the shape to be actually rolled.

 

Dean rolled it back and forth in his fingers a few times. “Now I’m gonna set the filter in here right up front…” he set the thicker folded up paper at the front of the joint-to-be. “And now we roll.”

 

Dean tucked one edge around the filter and then carefully began rolling the paper in his fingers, finagling a little here and there until almost all the paper had been rolled around. “And now we just seal it down.”

 

Dean licked the edge of the paper and then pressed it down, patting everything firmly in place. “Now just pack everything in there…” Dean used his pinky finger to push inside the joint and get everything packed evenly. “And just seal the end and we have a perfect little joint.”

 

Dean pushed the little bit at the end down flat and then reached for his lighter.

 

“So you get all that?” He asked.

 

“Nope.” Cas replied.

 

“Didn’t think so,” Dean chuckled, flicking the lighter over the sealed end of the joint. He set the lighter down and then brought the slimmer end of the joint to his lips, taking a deep breath. He coughed a little as he handed it over to Cas. “Breathe with your stomach so it really gets into your lungs.”

 

“Is that safe?” Cas asked, tentatively taking it.

 

“Would I let you do anything that was gonna hurt you?” Dean countered.

 

“True,” Cas replied, exhaling and then putting the end of the joint into his mouth.

 

“Hey, you’re not giving it a blowjob,” Dean snickered. “Don’t put it so far in–you’ll get the paper wet.”

 

“Sorry,” Cas said, taking it out a little and coughing out a bunch of smoke. “Is it supposed to be this strong?”

 

“Yeah,” Dean answered. “You’re a virgin to this stuff.”

 

“Huh,” Cas hummed, putting it in his mouth and taking another deep breath, avoiding from coughing this time as he exhaled. Immediately, he put it back into his mouth.

 

“Three hits in a row?” Dean scoffed. “Jesus, Cas.”

 

Dean took a few more hits, careful to fan the smoke away from the smoke detector nearby.

 

“What is this?” Cas groaned, making a weird face.

 

“Dank is what it is,” Dean replied. “At least you got some fairly decent shit for my money.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Cas teased.

 

“That was not a compliment of any sort, Cas,” Dean said, taking another hit and holding it out.

 

“That sounded like a compliment to me though,” Cas drawled, taking the joint back from Dean and raising it to his lips. Dean stuck his hand underneath Cas’s chin as the ash fell off the tip. Dean hissed as it fell into his palm and he quickly brushed it onto a coaster on the table.

 

“Whoops,” Cas said, holding the joint away from his face.

 

“It’s been a while. I forgot you gotta watch the ash there.” Dean muttered, brushing a few more specks off of his hand.

 

“Are you hungry?” Cas asked, “Because I’m hungry.”

 

“Oh no,” Dean sighed. “Already?”

 

“What?” Cas replied. “I don’t think I ate very recently.”

 

“You just had dinner before you went to the store, Cas,” Dean stated.

 

“Oh, yeah I did, didn’t I?” Cas mused.

 

“You have the munchies,” Dean giggled.

 

“The what?” Cas asked, setting the joint down on the coaster and going to rummage through the food pantry.

 

“We don’t have anything, Cas,” Dean groaned, turning around on the couch and watching him.

 

“Why the hell not?” Cas sighed, taking out a bag of marshmallows and ripping it open.

 

“Why not?” Dean laughed. “Why not?”

 

“Yeah, I’d kill for something good right now.” Cas muttered.

 

“Well, maybe if someone didn’t opt to buy drugs instead of our groceries, we’d have food right now,” Dean replied.

 

“Oh fuck, I did that,” Cas hissed.

 

“Yeah, yeah you did,” Dean said. “You regret that yet?”

 

Cas sat back on the couch this time right up against Dean. “Food would be nice, but not gonna lie, this feels fucking awesome. I should do drugs more often.”

 

“No, no, you shouldn’t,” Dean mused. “No, you should not, Cas.”

 

“But if drugs are bad, why’d you have all this drug paraphernalia around your house?” Cas asked.

 

“What? You think your hippie ass never smoked when you were alive?” Dean retorted, Cas resting his head on Dean’s shoulder.

 

“I was a hippie?” Cas snickered.

 

“Kinda,” Dean said with a smile, wrapping his arm around Cas’s shoulder and pulling him close, picking the joint up from the table and taking another drag and then putting it in Cas’s mouth. “You definitely smoked like one, I can tell you that.”

 

“This was all my stuff?” Cas asked.

 

“Hell no!” Dean laughed. “I mean I still have everything you owned, but there’s no way it’d be good by now. This is all mine,” Dean said. “But you got me into it.”

 

“Oh yeah, blame the dead guy,” Cas retorted, laughing and sloppily kissing the side of Dean’s face.


	19. Chapter 19

“Cas, are my jeans on the floor in there?” Dean called, heading down the hallway, laundry basket in hand. “Cas?”

 

Dean pushed open the bedroom door and nearly squealed, dropping the basket on the floor. “Cas!”

 

“Hi, Dean!” Cas chided, laying naked on the bed with his hand on his dick.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” Dean groaned, putting his hand over his face and looking away.

 

“Masturbating,” Cas stated.

 

“I can see that,” Dean grimaced. “But why?”

 

“Well why I wouldn’t I?” Cas asked.

 

“Because I’m home,” Dean said. “Cover yourself would you? Jesus…”

 

“There,” Cas said, holding a pillow over himself and sitting up. “But I don’t see why it matters now. I mean we’re boyfriends, aren’t we?”

 

“Yeah, but you can’t–” Dean sighed. “Fuck.”

 

“Why not?” Cas asked. “It’s not like you haven’t had sex with me before.”

 

“Yeah, but that was different,” Dean groaned, looking up at the ceiling in frustration. “I wasn’t having sex with _you_ per say.”

 

“Dean, that’s bullshit,” Cas said. “I’m still the same guy you had sex with hundreds of times before I died.”

 

“No you’re not!” Dean argued. “It’s not like that, and even if it was, that was fifteen years ago.”

 

“Dean–“

 

“I mean how can you say that you’re the same person? You’re not. You’re the same body, but without being who you were, you’re not the same person. It’s like meeting someone new just in my ex’s body.” Dean huffed.

 

“I’m not someone different though,” Cas protested. “I’m still me. I might not seem like it right now, but if I were someone completely different, I wouldn’t have my old memories still. I mean, I don’t have them all yet, but still!”

 

“It’s just not the same, Cas!” Dean groaned, starting to pick the spilt clothes up off the floor. “You only kissed me not even two weeks ago. That’s not time to be this sexually open with each other.”

 

“I don’t get it, Dean,” Cas sighed.

 

“You don’t have to,” Dean stated, picking the basket up off the ground. “You just have to agree that you won’t jack it in open spaces when I’m around.”

 

“Fine,” Cas grumbled.

 

“Now, have you seen my jeans?” Dean asked.

 

“Yeah, they’re on the bathroom floor. I think you left them in there when you took a shower today,” Cas answered.

 

“Thank you,” Dean muttered, crossing the bed to get to their bathroom. “Have anything else you need washed?”

 

“No.” Cas shook his head and sighed in disappointment.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're getting here by a subscription notification, I put two chapters in one upload today–19 and 20, so I don't know how subscription notifications work, but there's two new chapters not just one. 
> 
> In addition, I think I've caught up with what I missed when I couldn't upload in February, and as I've got a lot I'm working on for both this blog and my professional writing, I'll be going back to one upload a week again until I've got the whole fic written so I can work on some other fics in the mean time.

Cas dug through a drawer on his side of the dresser, grumbling to himself as he rifled through his clothes. Dean had gone in to work that day and Cas was home alone and more bored than usual.

 

“There you are, you little asshole,” he muttered, pulling a plastic card out from the drawer.

 

Cas called an Uber and stood outside a building labelled “Castle Superstore”. He stepped inside the automatic doors and instantly gasped.

 

“Oh my God!” he said, looking around.

 

“Can I help you?” An employee asked, standing in front of him.

 

“Are you guys these guys?” Cas asked, showing the gift card from his pocket.

 

“That’s us,” she responded.

 

“But this looks like a sex shop,” Cas stated.

 

“We prefer the term adult store,” she said.

 

“So he bought me a gift card for a sex shop?” Cas asked.

 

“Adult store, yes, whoever he is, he did,” she replied.

 

“What do you guys have? I don’t really know much about this stuff,” Cas mumbled.

 

“Well, we cary basic things such as personal massagers, condoms, and lubricant and more adventurous things like whips and flogs, roleplaying costumes, rubber outfits, and other fetish paraphernalia.” she explained.

 

“I don’t know what most of that means,” Cas replied, holding the card up again. “Can you tell me how much is on this? Dean won’t let me use his credit card anymore.”

 

“Sure, I’ll be right back,” the employee said, giving him a smile. “If you want to look around, we’ve got a wall of personal massagers and dildos over there.”

 

“Um, okay,” Cas said, heading towards them.

 

Cas walked up to the wall and stared in shock. There were four rows on it, two rows had boxes with _things_ in them and the row above each of them had demonstration models of them, these odd plastic and phallic shaped objects.

 

Cas looked at a rather large, blue one standing upright and flicked it with his finger. It was rubber like jelly and bounced back and forth. The one next to it was more firm and was made to look just like a penis. That one was interesting to him. He flicked it a little hard, but flicked it a bit too hard and it fell off the display.

 

“Shit!” he hissed, fumbling to pick it up before anyone saw. Unfortunately for him, someone did.

 

“You’ve got $100 on this card,” the employee said, handing him his card as he came back. “That one’s rather popular with the ladies, if I recall. You buying for yourself or someone else?”

 

“Uh–myself, I guess. Either way, I guess I’m gay, so it’d be a guy no matter what,” Cas said. “Maybe I should buy something for Dean…”

 

“Perhaps, you’d be interest in our anal and prostate section?” she suggested.

 

“That’s a thing?” Cas asked.

 

“That’s a thing,” she replied, walking further down the wall, Cas tagging along behind her. “Right around in here is where we keep the anal and prostate toys. And we keep lube and toy cleaners right behind us here on this shelf.”

 

“Do I need those?”

 

She laughed a little at him. “Definitely. If you can only get one, get the lube.”

 

“Is there one you recommend? I don’t really have any experience with any of this. I don’t know the difference between sizes or shapes or what any of this really means,” Cas said.

 

“Well, I know we often have trouble keeping these ones in stock…” she said, pointing to a smaller prostate massager. “And if you’re thinking something more controllable, we have these, they come in a few colors if you’re picky.”

 

Cas took a tapered, rubber dildo off the display shelf and messed with a little, bending it around and running his fingers over it.

 

“A lot of couples like it because it has two different sized ends for different tolerances,” she continued.

 

“What colors do you have other than black?” Cas asked.

 

“We have a purple and also a neon green, but no one buys that,” she replied.

 

“Can I get the green?”

 

“You can, if you want,” she said, shuffling through the boxes on the rack beneath it.

 

“Holy shit, forty bucks?” Cas scoffed.

 

“It’s chargeable via USB and comes with ten vibration settings,” she added.

 

“What’s a USB?” Cas asked.

 

“Seriously?”

 

Cas stared at her blankly.

 

“Do you have a computer?”

 

“Yes,” Cas answered.

 

“Then you have a USB port that you can charge this with,” she explained.

 

“Oh. What’s the biggest butt thingy you have?” Cas replied.

 

“The biggest…” she bit her lip as she looked around. “That’s gonna be our Jumbo selection, here.”

 

She handed Cas a fairly large packaging with a realistic looking dildo inside. “No vibrations, just the silicone.”

 

“I think I’ll get this for Dean,” Cas stated. “That makes $85 so far…and I’ll get some lube and I’ll be ready.”

 

The sales associate waited as he went over to the opposing shelf and picked out a lube.

 

“Alright, I’m ready,” Cas said, flashing her a smile. “I hope Dean likes this.”

 

“I’m sure he will,” she replied, beginning to walk towards the cash registers.

* * *

The Uber dropped Cas back off at home and he immediately ran towards the bedroom. He set the Jumbo dildo for Dean off to the side and searched for the scissors to open the smaller vibrator he found for himself.

 

He carefully opened the box and pulled the vibrator out along with the charging cord. He grabbed Dean’s laptop and plugged everything in, waiting for it to charge a little. In the mean time, he got the lube out and opened it and put a little on his fingers, just to see what it was like. “Interesting…” he hummed, tasting it tentatively and then wiping it on his shirt.

 

He opened up the instruction booklet that came with the vibrator and flipped through the pages.

 

“Doesn’t anyone speak English anymore?” he asked, rifling through pages of foreign translations, finally realizing the English was on the back. “Oh. There we go.”

 

He turned straight to the page that talked about actual usage.

 

“For male anal stimulation, angle the tip of the device inward and apply gentle back and forth pressure.” he read aloud.

 

He tossed the instructions off to the side and looked at the computer. “Oh, it was already charged. That was nice of them.”

 

Cas went and checked the front door was locked just in case and began undressing. He disrobed completely, leaving his clothes on the bedroom floor and moved the laptop and charging cord back underneath the bed. Slightly nervous, he climbed onto the bed and and laid on his back, staring at the odd device in his hand. He looked it over for a button and couldn’t find one.

 

He gave up after a minute and went back to the box. “Oh.” he sighed, seeing that he’d left the remote inside. He hit the big button on the remote and the vibrator turned on, vibrating around on the bed. He pressed a button with an up arrow and it started vibrating on and off. He hit it again and it changed to a quicker rhythm of ons and offs. He decided to turn it off completely for now.

 

He got back on the bed and laid back down in the same position. He took the lube bottle and put it on two of his fingers. He reached between his legs, but found he couldn’t actually get to anything. He pulled his knees up and his feet closer to him and was able to get his fingers where they needed to be.

 

“Ooh.” he gasped, just feeling the tingling sensation as he fingers reached the sensitive skin. He started pushing them inside, feeling how tight his muscles contracted around them. He moaned quietly and tried to remember what Dean had done the night they had sex. He opened his fingers up, pushing against the muscle. He took a deep breath and tried to relax a little.

 

“This isn’t so bad,” he said, opening them up more and feeling himself become a little less tense. “I got this.”

 

Cas took his fingers out and reached for the vibrator. He turned it around so the small end was facing him and he poured some lube all over it. He slathered it around with his hands and then went to slide it in. He ran his free hand over his hardening cock, moaning as he ran his thumb over the sensitive slit.

 

He pulled his legs up a little more so he had a better angle and began pushing the tip of the vibrator down inside him. It slipped in easily with all the slick lube helping it and Cas moaned again. It was stretching him further than he thought his fingers were and if he were being honest, he’d say it hurt, but it was a _good_ type of hurt.

 

Cas wiggled it back and forth inside of him, trying to loosen up a little more. He used his other hand to go tease the area around his opening some more, running his fingers over the puckered skin. Carefully, he pushed it in a little more and took a sharp intake of breath at the burning sensation as he forced himself to open up more.

 

He decided to let it rest a little and started jacking himself off. He used some of the lube still on his hand to begin working himself. The lube he grabbed had something in it and it made him feel tingly. He noted to himself that he should use this more often. He jacked his hand up and down the length of his dick, occasionally flicking the slit at the end for that added pleasure.

 

He tried playing around a little, going faster and then slower, applying more pressure and then applying less. He decided he liked going fast but applying less pressure the best.

 

Then, he remembered what the instructions said.

 

_For male anal stimulation, angle the tip of the device inward and apply gentle back and forth pressure._

 

He stopped jacking himself off and went back to the vibrator. He felt noticeably more comfortable now and was able to get it further inwards. He got it about an extra inch deeper, stopping when he felt something _extra_ nice. He applied pressure there and a moan escape from his lips. He pulled it out a little and then pushed it back in, applying direct pressure there. That must have been what the instructions were talking about.

 

Cas kept the vibrator almost all the way inside him, just moving it in and out a little bit, but always making sure on the pushing in that he rubbed the end against the spot that felt so nice. He kept moaning more as he got the hang of where and how to put it. What Dean did with his tongue was nice and all, but nothing got near this sensual.

 

He writhed a little in his spot on the bed, feet lifting off the bed completely at some points to just get it at that exact spot. Something back in there felt amazing. His cock twitched around on his stomach as he got closer and closer to coming.

 

Cas reached over and grabbed the remote from next to him and hit the on button, moaning loudly as he felt it.

 

“Oh, God!” he whined, taking a sharp breath. He stopped taking the vibrator in and out and just kept it on the spot, rubbing it back and forth, moaning loudly the while.

 

“Fuck!” he cried, bringing his spare hand to start working at his cock again. He quickly slid his fist up and down his length, bringing himself closer and closer.

 

“Come on, come on,” he pleaded into the air, applying more pressure with the neon colored toy inside him. “Come on…”

 

“Oh, there we go..” He moaned, panting between moans as come started dripping out the top of his dick, spilling over his stomach. “Fuck, that’s so good,” he breathed, continuing to stroke himself through the orgasm, getting come all over his hand.

 

As he came, the amount of pleasure the vibrator gave him started decreasing so he turned it off and removed it, setting it on the bed next to him and falling to lie flat.

 

“Holy shit,” he said, starting to laugh. “I should’ve used that gift card a long time ago.”

* * *

“Dean, you’re back!” Cas cheered, hearing the front door open.

 

“I am,” Dean replied, locking the door behind him. When he looked back forward, Cas was running towards him, arms outstretched.

 

“Hi, Cas,” he sighed.

 

“I missed you,” Cas said, pulling away and kissing Dean on the mouth.

 

Dean kissed him back and as Cas pulled away, Dean gave him one more quick peck. “Was today really boring?”

 

“No, no, not at all,” Cas replied.

 

“Oh no,” Dean groaned. “You find cocaine this time?”

 

“What? No? But I did get you something,” Cas said. “Come on.”

 

Dean followed Cas into the bedroom and waited as Cas got a shoebox out.

 

“Why did you change the sheets?” Dean asked. “I just put them on this morning.”

 

“Um…”

 

“I don’t want to know, do I?” Dean replied.

 

“Mn-mn.” Cas shook his head.

 

“Figures,” Dean snorted, taking the box out of Cas’s hands. “What’s this?”

 

“Open it,” Cas stated. “I made use of the credit cards Balthazar gave me and I figured I’d get you something considering you do so much for me.”

 

“Aw, thanks Cas,” Dean replied, smiling at him as he opened the box. “What the hell is this?”

 

“Well, it’s a dildo!” Cas exclaimed, looking up at him for affirmation.

 

“I can see that,” Dean said. “But why?”

 

“Well, I thought you’d enjoy it.” Cas stated.

 

“And why this large?” Dean asked.

 

“Don’t you like it?” Cas replied.

 

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I hope you kept the receipt,” Dean said.

 

“So you don’t like it,” Cas sighed.

 

“Cas, this thing is massive.” Dean stated.

 

“I know! I got you the biggest one they had,” Cas explained. “I figured that if beginners needed a smaller size, then anal sex experts like you would need a really big one.”

 

Dean picked up the packaging and looked at it. “Cas, this thing is two inches wide on it’s own. It’s nine inches long. There is no way this thing is fitting inside me.”

 

“Hey, anything can fit if you just try hard enough,” Cas replied.

 

“No, no, Cas, it would not,” Dean chuckled. “So, go return this and if you really want, I can tell you what I could use.”

 

“Okay,” Cas groaned. “I just wanted to do something to make you happy.”

 

“It makes me happy that you thought of me,” Dean said, setting the dildo back into the box and setting the box aside.

 

“Really?” Cas asked.

 

“Really,” Dean answered, kissing Cas on the cheek and wrapping his arm around his waist. “You want to go out to eat tonight?”

 

“Can we?” Cas replied, voice rising in pitch with excitement.

 

“Where you want to go?” Dean asked.

 

“Hm…I don’t know,” Cas said. “You decide.”

 

“Mexican?” Dean offered.

 

“Mexican is good,” Cas replied.

 

“Good.”


	21. Chapter 21

Dean groaned loudly as Cas rolled on top of him, laying on his chest. “Jesus, Cas, you’re heavy.”

 

“Is it my body?” Cas asked.

 

“What?”

 

“Is it my body? Don’t you find me attractive anymore? Or do you want someone your own age, not your young and cute boyfriend from the 90s?” Cas continued.

 

“My own age?” Dean scoffed,. “Thanks, Cas, way to make me feel old.”

 

“Well, I’m the exact same as when I died, and you’re not. It’s been 15 years. Maybe what you want changed?” Cas replied.

 

“Attraction has nothing to do with it, Cas,” Dean sighed, running his hand through Cas’s hair. “Just because I’m not comfortable with finding you jacking off somewhere doesn’t mean that I’m disgusted by you or don’t want you. It just means I’m not ready for that, yet. It’s hard seeing someone in the body of your boyfriend who isn’t really your boyfriend.”

 

“But I am, Dean,” Cas argued. “We’ve been through this.”

 

“I know we have,” Dean stated.

 

“I’m better, Dean, aren’t I?” Cas asked. “I’m better than when I first got here?”

 

“You are,” Dean agreed. “You’re starting to remind me of yourself again a little bit.”

 

“I am?” Cas replied with a smile.

 

“Well, you’re actually trying to work with me now and try and remember who you are, and before, you wouldn’t.” Dean said. “So, that counts for something.”

 

“So, it’s something but not enough?” Cas asked.

 

“That’s not what I said,” Dean groaned.

 

“Is it the zombie thing that’s putting you off?” Cas interjected. “Because I’d totally understand if you didn’t want to sleep with a zombie.”

 

“You’re not a zombie,” Dean laughed.

 

“I was dead, and now I’m not. Therefore, zombie,” Cas stated.

 

“Hey, Jesus did that, too and no one calls him a zombie,” Dean replied.

 

“But I’m not Jesus,” Cas argued. “Therefore, Zombie. So I’d get if sleeping with a zombie was off-putting for you.”

 

“Hey, if you’re a zombie, you’re _my_ zombie at least,” Dean said, laughing as Cas playfully bit his shoulder.

 

“But so–” Cas muttered. “–what _is_ wrong with me? Why _don’t_ you want to sleep with me? I got the tattoos and I got the piercings and I don’t like them much, but I did it so that I’d be what you want.”

 

“I told you, Cas, it’s not about you–it’s about me,” Dean replied. “I still haven’t fully processed the fact that you even exist again, yet. Fifteen years ago I had a boyfriend, someone I loved more than anything in this life. And that boyfriend got murdered and he was gone for fifteen years and all of a sudden you’re somehow back and we’re sharing a roof and sharing a bed and I’m sorry if you don’t understand why it’s a lot, still.”

 

“I–I was murdered?” Cas breathed.

 

“Did no one ever tell you?” Dean asked.

 

“No, I assumed there was a car accident or I had an aneurysm or something,” Cas replied. “I never knew.”

 

“Well,” Dean sighed. “You disappeared one day. There was no trace of you. And we’d been in a fight, so I thought you just got mad and left and wanted nothing to do with me.”

 

“Why were we fighting?”

 

“We were fighting over fucking household chores. We’d both lost track of whose turn it was and neither of us wanted to do them and it just escalated from there,” Dean replied. “It was so fucking stupid.”

 

“I don’t think I would have left you over that,” Cas replied.

 

“Well, I couldn’t think of another option,” Dean stated. “But, then your family was asking me why you weren’t returning any calls and you’d left them, too. And we were all worried, so I filed a missing persons report on you. And, a few days after that, I got a call from the county morgue saying they found a body that they thought was yours and because we lived together, they called me.”

 

“But how’d you know I was murdered?” Cas asked.

 

“Well, I went down to the hospital and I had to look at your body–or what little was left of it–and verify it was yours. I had to bury the man I loved, Cas,” Dean said, starting to cry. “I had to tell your family and everyone was such a mess, I had to organize everything and handle everything.”

 

“How was I killed though?”

 

“It was–it was bad,” Dean whispered. “There was a serial killer at the time–gruesome guy–and he wou–he would,” Dean’s breathing started picking up and he started crying more. “–he would skin his victims alive–slowly– until they finally died, and then he’d just toss them out.”

 

Cas sat Dean up and hugged him, letting Dean hold onto him and cry. He hugged Dean tightly and kissed the side of his neck.

 

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered, trying to pull away from him.

 

“No, no, it’s okay,” Cas replied, holding onto him tighter. “You just…you don’t just forget things like that.”

 

Cas let Dean go just to grab a blanket and wrap it around him and then wiped the tears off Dean’s face with his hands.

 

“It’s okay,” he repeated, going to hug Dean again.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Busy work schedule ahead and my only day off until the end of the month is on Sundays, so the next few updates will come on Sundays.

“Whatcha drawing?” Dean asked, seeing Cas sitting at the kitchen table with his art supplies out.

 

“I don’t know,” Cas replied.

 

“You don’t know?”

 

“I mean, I’m just drawing whatever comes to mind. I want to see if it helps me remember anything,” Cas explained.

 

“Has it worked so far?” Dean asked, sitting next to him.

 

“I don’t know,” Cas said, sliding a couple papers of drawings up. “You tell me. Recognize anything?”

 

“Hm…” Dean slid them over to himself and looked at them. “Yeah, I recognize some stuff on here.”

 

“You do?” Cas gasped.

 

“Yeah,” Dean replied, tapping to a large house he’d sketched out. “You grew up there.”

 

“That was my home?”

 

“Yep.” Dean nodded. “And that’s a lady you liked to draw. She was homeless and would hang around your work, so on lunch you’d sit and talk to her everyday and you’d keep each other company.”

 

“I wonder if she’s still there,” Cas said.

 

“I doubt,” Dean replied. “For her sake, I’d hope not.”

 

“Is that all?” Cas asked. “Out of everything I drew?”

 

“Yeah.” Dean sighed. “Hey, you got something though.”

 

“Less than what I’d hoped,” Cas grumbled.

 

“Wait, what’s that?” Dean asked, putting his finger on a piece of paper underneath Cas’s arm.

 

“Oh, it’s–I didn’t like it,” Cas stated, lifting his arm up and letting Dean take it.

 

“That’s Dog.” Dean said, tapping his finger on a half-smudged drawing of a Saint Bernard.

 

“I know that’s a dog.” Cas replied.

 

“No, no, not _a dog_. Just _Dog_ ,” Dean explained. “He was your family dog growing up. You named him.”

 

“So his name was just Dog?” Cas asked.

 

Dean nodded.

 

“Wow, very creative of me,” Cas muttered.

 

“You loved that dog to death,” Dean said. “He died before you ever met me, but you kept pictures of him in your wallet right along with your cat.”

 

“I kept my cat in my wallet?” Cas scoffed.

 

“No, pictures of your cat,” Dean stated. “You had your cat when you met me, still.”

 

“What happened to him?” Cas asked.

 

“Hit by a car,” Dean answered. “You cried for a week. And I hadn’t even been with you that long but I was all you had so I had to pretty much coddle this weird stranger who wouldn’t stop crying for all that time.”

 

“I’m surprised you didn’t dump me,” Cas replied.

 

“I wanted to,” Dean said. “But I felt bad dumping someone who just lost their cat, and by the time I would have been okay with dumping you, I’d fallen in love with you and would never have wanted to.”

 

“Oh, well I’m glad my emotional fragility worked out for you,” Cas mused, looking at the drawing of the dog beneath him. “So, can I get another dog?”

 

“No,” Dean stated. “Never. Not in a million years.”

 

“Why not?” Cas groaned.

 

“Because I hate dogs,” Dean replied.

 

“How can you hate dogs?” Cas scoffed. “They’re bundles of love.”

 

“They’re messy and they slobbery and they shed and they shit in the house and are loud,” Dean answered.

 

“So are you,” Cas countered.

 

“I’m not messy or slobbery or loud, I don’t shed, and I definitely don’t shit in the house,” Dean argued.

 

“Oh, so you shit in the yard then?” Cas asked.

 

“You get what I mean. I don’t shit on the floor,” Dean huffed.

 

“Well, you shed hair when you brush it. You’re definitely loud when you’re mad. You make a mess of the shower and always rearrange my alphabetically ordered products. You drool in your sleep. And, technically you do shit in the house, even if it’s in a bathroom,” Cas stated. “So I want a dog.”

 

“No,” Dean replied. “They’re expensive.”

 

“Think of all the money you’d save if I was too distracted to use your credit card,” Cas said.

 

“Think of all the money I’d save if I got a new card and didn’t let you have it,” Dean argued.

 

“Come on, Dean,” Cas groaned. “I don’t ask for anything, do I?”

 

“Sometimes,” Dean stated.

 

“Hey, it’s not even that much,” Cas said. “I try to help myself all I can.”

 

“Who’s gonna take care of it?” Dean asked.

 

“Me, obviously. I don’t work, I don’t travel, I’ll always be home to be with it,” he explained.

 

Dean sighed and Cas looked at him hopefully. “No, Castiel.”

 

“But, Dean,” Cas pleaded. “Don’t you love me?”

 

“You know I do,” Dean stated.

 

“Then, let me get a dog to make me happy and keep me company,” Cas said. “Pleaaaaaaase, Dean.”

 

Dean stared at him disapprovingly. Cas scooted his chair against the tile and rested his head on Dean’s shoulder. “Please, Dean.”

 

“Fine,” Dean huffed, shoving Cas away.

 

Cas leant back in and hugged him hard. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

 

“Oh, God, what did I just do?” Dean sighed.

* * *

The next day, Dean took Cas to a nice store that he’d seen around. He read the reviews and the puppies were from ethical breeders and not mills and he figured it’d be a good place to get a dog.

 

“What about this one?” Dean asked. “It’s a Saint Bernard like Dog was.”

 

“I don’t know,” Cas sighed, looking around a little. “I just don’t really see a dog I like.”

 

“Cas, you’re the one that wanted a dog so bad,” Dean stated. “What do you mean you don’t see a dog you like?”

 

“I mean, all these dogs are so nice and pretty and have such promising futures,” Cas said.

 

“Yeah, I’m sure that Bichon Frise is gonna go to Harvard,” Dean retorted.

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Cas drawled. “I mean, any of these dogs could go be show dogs or go to a loving family in a big house with a big yard and they could do so much better than me and you,”

 

“Gee, thanks,” Dean snorted.

 

“Seriously, Dean. These dogs could do anything and be with anyone. I want a dog that would be with me and call it a blessing,” Cas explained.

 

“You’re thinking way too hard into this, man,” Dean chuckled. “I say just live and let be. Why don’t you get this cute one over here? He looks fluffy and cuddly.”

 

Cas looked at the dog and then up at the tag above the window. “Dean, that’s an Alaskan Malamute.”

 

“Yeah? So?”

 

Cas sighed and looked at him. “That dog is going to grow up to be the same size as me basically. And it needs to be brushed very frequently,”

 

“Oh,” Dean grumbled. “Nevermind. Pick a small, easy to care for dog.”

 

“Can we just go to a shelter instead?” Cas asked.

 

“All the way out here and you want to try a shelter?” Dean groaned.

 

“Hey, I just don’t feel it with any of these dogs. They’re too good for me,” Cas replied.

 

“Fine,” Dean sighed. “You’re lucky I don’t change my mind.”

* * *

Cas stepped into the shelter, Dean walking behind him almost nervously. He wasn’t fond of shelters. They were always so depressing.

 

An employee saw them and waved to them, walking up to greet them.

 

“Hi there!” She said with a smile. “Can I help you?”

 

“We’re looking to adopt,” Cas stated. “Do you have any animals headed for death?”

 

The employee looked at him for his strange wording but nodded. “Yes, we have a list of animals that we are going to have to unfortunately put down due to lack of resources and their unadoptability.”

 

“Can I see them?” Cas asked.

 

“Sure.” The employee began leading them through to the hall with cages marked with an orange tag. “These animals are all–“

 

“On death row,” Cas interrupted her.

 

“–set to be euthanized soon,” she finished. “I’ll be up front if you need me.”

 

“Thanks,” Dean said, walking with Cas down the aisle.

 

“Look at this poor thing,” Cas sighed, stopping in front of a cage with a small chihuahua in it. The chihuahua was shaking as he looked at him and as he turned, Cas noticed he had a back leg missing.

 

“Poor guy,” Dean muttered.

 

Cas kept going down the hall, looking sadly at all the animals he couldn’t save.

 

“What about this one?” Dean suggested, crouching down to a larger cage on the ground.

 

“Is there anything in there?” Cas asked.

 

“Yeah, come here,” Dean said, motioning him over. “He’s just black. He blends in.”

 

Cas made a quiet whistling sound and the dog jumped up started and looked at him.

 

“Oh, that’s weird. He’s all short and fucked up,” Dean replied.

 

“No, I think he’s just mixed with a corgi or a dachshund,” Cas stated. “He’s pretty though. Look at that white spot around his eye.”

 

“I mean I wouldn’t call him pretty,” Dean muttered.

 

“He’s gorgeous, shut up,” Cas sneered, standing up. “I’m gonna go ask if we can take him.”

 

Dean sat watching the dog walk around in it’s tiny crate, sticking close to the back.

 

Cas returned with the same employee as before and showed her the dog.

 

“What’s his problem?” Dean asked.

 

“He’s afraid of people,” she replied. “He’s very anti-social and no one wants a dog that hates people.”

 

“He potty trained?”

 

“Yes, he’s house broken. He’s also neutered. About four years old,” she explained.

 

“Is he aggressive?” Cas asked.

 

“No, but are you sure you want him?” She asked. “He’s really, really uncomfortable around people. He’s on the euthanasia list for a reason.”

 

“That makes me want him all the more,” Cas replied. “I want a dog that knows what I’ve been through. I want a dog with problems that’s unloved and unwanted like me. I want to give some dog the second chance that I was given.”

 

“Alright,” she replied. “I’ll go draft up some paperwork, then. Wait here.”

 

“You’re not unwanted.” Dean stated. “Or unloved.”

 

“Yes I am,” Cas argued. “I’m only living with you because my whole family refused to take me.”

 

“Hey, I wanted you from the start,” Dean said, running his hand down Cas’s arm.

 

“I know,” Cas replied. “So I want to be for this dog what you were to me.”

 

“That’s so you,” Dean scoffed. “This dog better not be too fucked up.”

 

“If you can deal with your skinned alive zombie boyfriend, you can deal with a socially awkward mutt,” Cas stated.

 

“I guess that’s one way to look at it,” Dean chuckled, kissing Cas on the cheek.


	23. Chapter 23

Dean had been working a little more lately. Cas was more comfortable on his own and had their new dog–Jorge–to keep him busy. That and Dean was going to have to file for bankruptcy soon if he didn’t start working enough to counter the way Cas spends money.

 

And once again, Cas found himself home alone with nothing to do. Well, not quite nothing, but nothing he felt like doing. 

 

“I wonder if there’s anything good online today,” he mused, turning off the TV and going towards the bedroom. Jorge followed behind him but he closed the door so he couldn’t.

 

“Sorry, Jorge. We just don’t have the type of relationship that you can watch this,” Cas said. “I’ll be back soon.”

 

Cas got Dean’s laptop from under the bed and opened it up. He opened up the internet browser and navigated to one of his favorite porn sites. He made a hum of slight intrigue as he scrolled the recent videos.

 

After going through a few pages, he decided on a video to watch. As he clicked on it, a pop-up window opened and he groaned as he waited for it to load so he could close out of it.

 

The page loaded and Cas slid his finger over to the close button, but paused as he looked at the page.

 

“Is porn starting to bore you?” It read across the top. “Explore new, high quality, extreme fetish porn now!”

 

Cas looked at a few of the ‘featured’ videos on the page. He’d seen a few things on there and heard of the others, but there was only one thing he was absolutely clueless about. The preview image just had a brawny naked man soaking wet and the caption above it read ‘watersports’.

 

“Is that like sex in the ocean?” Cas asked, clicking on it. The page changed to an array of videos to choose from. He clicked a random one and the preview reel began playing.

 

It was a compilation of three second clips all spliced together. The first clip had a man at his laptop getting himself off, the next a man coming in through a door, after that the two of them half naked and kissing, after that the second man giving the first man a blowjob, and the last clip made Cas gasp with shock–the imagery of seeing the first man peeing on the second one.

 

Cas rewatched the preview a few times before getting up and digging through his dresser for Dean’s credit card information. He had the foresight to write it down before Dean stopped giving it to him.

 

Cas went back over to the bed and typed it all in and then waited for the video to download. As it loaded, he put the paper back at the bottom of his drawer in the dresser where he kept it hidden and then got back on the bed.

 

As soon as the video was loaded, he opened it up and let it play.

 

“Fuck, I’m so horny,” the man on the screen said, the camera zooming into him rubbing himself through his underwear.

 

He was sitting in a living room of some building, a laptop on the table in front of him. He opened it up and pulled up a random porn clip that upon further inspection was just a 10 second loop of a video, though he didn’t seem to notice.

 

“So hot,” he muttered, immediately taking his already hard dick out from his underwear.

 

“So realistic,” Cas retorted, watching almost impatiently for anything exciting to happen.

 

After jacking himself off for a few minutes, the second man from the preview opened the door and walked in.

 

“Honey, I’m home,” he said. “Having fun without me?”

 

“Well, now that you’re home, it doesn’t have to be without you,” the first man purred, standing up and going over to him. The second man was in a suit and tie, holding a briefcase and obviously meant to be portraying a businessman even though Cas could tell that his suit was bought from a GoodWill.

 

The two men began kissing each other, the one in his underwear taking off the other’s top most layers of clothing. The business man kept using his hand to play with the first man’s cock, running his hand up and down his length and working him up further.

 

The first man grabbed onto him and pulled him close by his wide button-up. “You know I was only waiting for you to get home so I could ask if you wanted to call a repairman or not,”

 

“What for?” He replied, continuing to jack his partner off.

 

“The toilet broke somehow and I haven’t been able to use it,” he explained.

 

“Has that really been a problem for you?” The businessman asked.

 

“Well yes because without you here, I had to wait all day until you got home since you’re the only toilet I have,” he growled, putting his hands on the businessman’s shoulder’s and pushing him to the ground.

 

“Oh, God,” Cas groaned, sighing deeply at the horrible acting he was witnessing.

 

The original man pushed his boxers down off his hips and then pulled his supposed boyfriend by his hair up close to him, guiding him to start sucking him.

 

Cas began stroking himself along to the video, mostly just to keep himself entertained. For Dean’s $7 he expected better than _this_. Thinking of Dean immediately excited him though. He started imagining Dean coming home from work like the man in the video and seeing Cas hard and turned on and giving Cas a blowjob. Cas wanted it. He wanted Dean’s lips sliding up and down his cock, his hands holding onto his ass as he got him off.

 

“God dammit,” Cas muttered, realizing he accidentally just came onto the laptop while thinking about Dean. He let out a tense, sharp breath and wiped it off with his hand and then wiped his hand onto the bed.

 

He looked back up at the screen and the two actors were finally starting to do something else. It’s not that he didn’t love a good blowjob scene, but quite frankly–this was a pretty shit porno.

 

“Are you ready for this?” the man asked, putting his arm out to his partner’s shoulder.

 

“Yes,” he answered, looking up at him from the ground.

 

“You want to be used?” he continued.

 

The man on the ground nodded and smiled. “Use me, please.”

 

Cas stifled a nervous squealing sound as the man standing aimed his dick at the man on the ground and just let loose on him, hitting him right in the face with a stream of pee.

 

Cas paused the video and stared at the screen in a mix of intrigue and horror. Part of him was disgusted but part of him was so curious and wanted to see more and he wasn’t sure what part he wanted to listen to. It was so _wrong_ but maybe that’s why he liked it. He pressed the spacebar again to let it continue playing and watched the man on the floor smile as he let the man in front of him piss all over him.

 

“How could someone enjoy that?” Cas thought to himself.

 

“Get up,” the man in the video said, reaching down and pulling the man on the floor up by his arm.

 

They went into another room representing a kitchen and the business man was shoved against a counter and the other man was immediately behind him. A camera zoomed in on his exposed ass as the man behind him reached for an extremely conveniently placed bottle of lube. Because who doesn’t have lube sitting out next to their bread box?

 

Within a few seconds, the two of them were fucking up against a counter. Cas scrolled through the video to see if there was anything else, but this scene was the end. He watched the sex scene for about a minute, envying the way that even though they weren’t in a relationship, those two men were having something he couldn’t have with Dean. Not yet at least. Cas went back and skipped to the scene where the interesting stuff happened.

 

He pressed the spacebar to hit play and then slowed the video down watching the piss scene again. The man on the floor at one point opened his mouth to catch it in there and then spit it back out onto his partner’s body. Cas replayed that part a few times before realizing he was painfully hard again. Already.

 

Cas sighed at himself and continued watching through the scene, focusing on the way both their skins got glossy from the moisture and there were droplets and puddles all over the floor. And Cas decided, he was definitely more intrigued than he was horrified and the more he watched, the more it fascinated him and he wanted more. Dean came back to his mind and he tried to just focus on the video, but every time he looked back to the video, all he could picture was being the one on the floor with Dean standing in front of him. Cas touched himself to the thought, sliding his hand up and down his cock as he moaned. He wanted to be the one on the ground, pleasuring Dean with his mouth and then letting Dean feel the ultimate release of freely soaking Cas down. The more the thought about it, the more vivid of an image he built in his mind and the more he wanted it.

 

Cas moved his hand faster and he replayed the scene in his head of him and Dean. Dean would piss all over him and then when they were done, Dean and him would go into the bedroom but unlike the video, they’d have gentle sweet love. He just wanted Dean to let him in and he wanted that physical exchange of love. His head filled with images of being cold from the combination of cool air and being wet, but the body heat between him and Dean was enough to warm him up from it. He’d hold Dean underneath him and they’d have some blissful combination of sex and love and Cas hated that he still had to just fantasize about having basic sex with his boyfriend and couldn’t just do it.

 

He had no choice though, so he just kept picturing it–rocking himself into Dean, making Dean moan with the pleasure, begging Cas for more. Cas watched in his head as the two of them made the bed shake and Dean was so loud that it would wake the neighbors and he kept adding these little details until he came, once again wiping it onto the bed sheets.

 

“I need to work on that stamina,” Cas grumbled, wiping his hand really good before touching the laptop again. He re-opened the internet browser and then went to find a pen and paper so he could write the name of the website down so he could come back to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the content we're all here for...


	24. Chapter 24

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, seeing the bright, blue light shine up at the ceiling.

 

“Playing solitaire,” Cas replied, looking over at him.

 

Dean sighed and sat up on his elbows. “Why are you playing solitaire?”

 

“I’m bored,” Cas said.

 

“You’re in bed,” Dean stated.

 

“So?” Cas asked.

 

“Bed is for sleep. Not for playing solitaire on your secondhand iPhone,” Dean drawled.

 

“But playing solitaire is so much more fun than going to sleep,” Cas protested.

 

“Then go sleep on the couch,” Dean replied.

 

Cas scoffed and turned his phone off. “What are you, my mom?”

 

“Your mom wishes,” Dean retorted.

 

Cas looked over his shoulder and smiled at Dean before scooting across the bed up closer to him.

 

“God, I want you,” Dean whispered, his mouth up against Cas’s ear.

 

“What?” Cas scoffed.

 

Dean brought his hand around Cas’s hip and slid it in between his thighs. “I want you, Cas.”

 

“Well, Mom wouldn’t touch me there,” Cas mused. “But if you want me, you can have me.”

 

Dean took Cas by the shoulder and rolled him over onto his back. Cas looked up at him and smiled. “Well?”

 

Dean smiled back and began kissing him, both hands holding onto his face with Dean laying squarely on top of him.

 

“Took you long enough.” Cas whispered, holding his hands at Dean’s sides as he kissed him.

 

Dean sat up and then sat Cas up with him, sliding Cas up against the headboard of the bed. Dean leant off the edge of the bed and opened the drawer in the bedside table, reaching in blindly but pulling out Cas’s neon green vibrator.

 

“What the fuck…” Dean muttered, holding it up and looking at him. “What is this doing in there? What even in this?”

 

“Remember…” Cas drawled, trailing off his words. “We rearranged the drawers we keep things in?”

 

“Oh,” Dean breathed. “Right.”

 

“And I stick that up my ass when I’m bored,’ Cas said.

 

Dean gagged and threw it back in the drawer, wiping his hand on the bed.

 

“Thanks, Dean,” Cas retorted. “Though, I don’t know where you keep anything of your own, but there’s lube in that drawer, too if that’s what you’re looking for.”

 

“Well, that too, but I was looking for the condoms,” Dean stated.

 

“Why?” Cas asked.

 

“Why?” Dean scoffed. “You came back from the dead. I don’t want to catch some weird heavenly STD.”

 

“I don’t have any STD’s,” Cas replied. “Heavenly or otherwise.”

 

“And we can find that out for sure, later,” Dean said, tossing Cas the lube from his drawer and then checking the bedside stand on the other side for his things. “Here they are.”

 

Dean tossed a condom in Cas’s general direction and Cas tore along the perforated edge to open it.

 

“You should have waited,” Dean stated, taking it out of his hand.

 

“Why?” Cas asked.

 

“Do you realize how hard putting a condom on a limp dick is?” Dean countered.

 

“Well, no I never tried it,” Cas said.

 

“Exactly,” Dean replied, setting the condom down onto the tabletop and turning back to Cas. They stared at each other unmoving for an awkward amount of time before Cas groaned and went back to kissing Dean.

 

Dean didn’t do anything so Cas whispered a gravelly “Come on,” and slid Dean’s hand down his pants. Dean snapped out of it and pushed his hand further down Cas’s waistband. Cas made a happy sigh and pressed his hips forward up against Dean’s hand. _It was finally happening. This is what he’d been waiting for._

 

Dean kissed down the side of Cas’s face and then around his neck before going back up to his lips. Cas didn’t bother holding back the desperate gasps of pleasure he made just from having Dean kiss him.

 

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna be as sensitive as you were the first time,” Dean said.

 

“What do you expect? My body’s back to the starting point. I can’t just desensitize myself over a couple months,” Cas replied.

 

“Funny, you’d think all that porn you watch would have some effect,” Dean mused.

 

“Maybe it has,” Cas sang. “But I guess there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

 

Dean kissed the side of Cas’s mouth and smiled into his skin before taking his hand out from Cas’s pants and grabbing the condom off the bedside stand. Using his free hand, he pulled Cas’s erection from his pants and rolled the condom down on top of it.

 

Dean then grabbed the lube and opened it,pouring it into his hand and then rubbing it onto Cas. He slathered it on generously and then reached behind himself to get it on him as well.

 

Dean pulled aside the leg of his boxers and then climbed on top of Cas.

 

“Wait, don’t you need to like, prepare?” Cas asked.

 

“Not always,” Dean replied.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I just don’t,” Dean sighed, wrapping his arms around Cas’s neck and pulling him close into his chest.

 

“But _why_?” Cas continued. “How can you just not need it? What’s the difference?” Cas said.

 

Dean groaned and exhaled tensely into Cas’s hair. “I already had something in my ass tonight, okay?”

 

“Oh.” Cas giggled a little.

 

“Stop it,” Dean said, rolling his hips in Cas’s lap.

 

“Wait–but how could you? I was home all night,” Cas said.

 

“Yeah. I know,” Dean replied.

 

“You tell me I’m not allowed to get off when you’re home. Why can you do it?” Cas argued.

 

“I didn’t say when I was home–I said in shared spaces when I was home,” Dean stated. “Though you’re noisy, so even a shower doesn’t really mask it,”

 

“Still? How? I was around almost constantly,” Cas replied.

 

“I’m quick and quiet when I need to be,” Dean purred, kissing the temple of Cas’s head.

 

“You’ll have to teach me that, someday,” Cas said.

 

“I’m sure by the time you learn, I wouldn’t care if you jacked off at the dinner table by then,” Dean chuckled.

 

“I’m not sure if that’s an insult or something to look forward to,” Cas mused, a moan escaping him.

 

“See?” Dean made a deep laugh that gave Cas chills. “I told you you were loud.”

 

“That was one moan,” Cas argued.

 

“Really?” Dean pulled himself tight, clenching down around Cas and quickly dragged himself up and down his length a few times, drawing long and loud moans out of him this time.

 

“Okay, but you did that on purpose,” Cas stated, running his hands down Dean’s chest and around to hold his back. “You’re trying to make me loud.”

 

“That’s the point of sex, baby,” Dean said, tilting his head so Cas could start kissing his neck.

 

Dean could feel his cock hitting his stomach as he rocked in Cas’s lap. Dean reached to put his hand down the front of his waistband, but Cas saw and grabbed his arm and moved it to the side so he could do it.

 

Cas would admit that getting someone else off felt a little different than when you’re getting yourself off, but he knew what he liked, so Dean probably would like the same things. He started with just moving his hand up and down normally like he would for himself. Dean leaned forward and pinned Cas back against the headboard of the bed, Dean holding onto Cas’s biceps.

 

Cas leant up so he could keep kissing Dean on the mouth. He held his free arm up to Dean’s face and cradled his cheek as they kissed. Considering it was his first time having true sex with Dean, it felt oddly non-sexual. All he could really think about didn’t have anything to do with sex or eroticism, but the fact that Dean was finally opening up and letting Cas see a part of him that no one else was allowed to see–both figuratively and literally–made Cas happy. He felt like he’d finally done something right.

 

Dean kept putting his hands on Cas–all over him. His shoulders, his face, his chest, his arms, anywhere Dean could touch, he did. Cas loved every minute of it.

 

“Dean?” Cas whispered.

 

“What?” Dean asked.

 

“There’s no way I’m going to last as long as you are,” Cas stated. “I can tell.”

 

“That’s okay,” Dean replied, giving Cas a playful chuckle. “You’ll grow out of it.”

 

“I hope,” Cas said.

 

“You will,” Dean repeated. “You did it once, you can do it again.”

 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Cas replied. “But I don’t like leaving you hanging.”

 

“You’re not leaving me hanging.”

 

“I feel like I am,” Cas sighed. “I feel bad that I can’t do more for you.”

 

“Cas, I don’t care,” Dean moaned, hitting the headboard with his hand and scaring Cas. “Sorry, that felt nice.”

 

“What did?” Cas asked.

 

“This,” Dean breathed, rocking back in the same way and moaning. “Maybe we won’t be so far apart after all.”

 

Cas shuttered and gasped a little and then looked up at Dean with an awkward smile. “Clock starts now.”

 

Dean rocked himself against Cas’s cock the best he could before he went soft and then lifted himself off of him. Cas quickly got the condom off himself and put it on the bedside dresser and then immediately went back to Dean. Dean was still in his lap, so Cas kept kissing him and holding him, his one hand still getting Dean off. He worked Dean like he did himself, twisting his hand a little and occasionally stopping to press his thumb against the head of Dean’s cock.

 

Between Cas’s hand and the way Cas kept touching him and kissing him, there wasn’t much time between when Cas came and when he did. After he came, he sat a bit away from Cas breathing heavily. Cas didn’t want it to end yet so he cupped Dean’s face in his hands again and kept kissing him, but this time slow and gentle.

* * *

Dean and Cas fell asleep that night snuggled into each other, arms and legs draped over and around their bodies. They woke up that way too, even if there were a couple hands and a leg that had fallen asleep due to poor circulation.

 

“Morning,” Cas whispered, feeling Dean wake up.

 

“Good morning,” Dean replied, letting Cas kiss him gently on the lips. Cas pulled away and Dean gave him a lazy, one-sided smile.

 

“Thanks,” Cas said after a moment of looking at each other.

 

“For what?” Dean asked.

 

“For last night,” Cas replied.

 

“Well, it’s not often you get told that,” Dean mused, smiling wider.

 

“Come on,” Cas sighed. “You know I’d been wanting that.”

 

Dean nodded. “I was planning on it, you know?”

 

“What do you mean?” Cas asked.

 

“I just–I was just laying there and then all of a sudden, I just _needed you_ ,” Dean stated. “I don’t know why or what caused it, but I just did.”

 

“That’s sweet,” Cas cooed, snuggling up into Dean’s chest. “Do you want to go out for dinner tonight?”

 

“We can,” Dean said.

 

“I mean, do you want to?” Cas asked. “Not can you?”

 

“I would like to,” Dean replied. “Happy?”

 

“Yes,” Cas answered. “I just thought maybe it’d be nice to do something traditionally normal and couple-y.”

 

“There was this little ghetto Chinese place that we used to go to,” Dean said. “Want to go there?”

 

“Sure,” Cas said.

 

“But do you want to?” Dean mimicked. “Not can you?”

 

“Yes, I want to,” Cas replied in a teasing tone, leaning up and kissing the underside of Dean’s jaw and then kissing him on the lips as he looked down at him.

 

They laid together in a peaceful, calm silence, basking in their newfound joy before Cas spoke again.

 

“I just want to make you happy,” he said quietly.

 

“You already do,” Dean whispered, kissing his forehead. “You already do, Cas.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [My Sweet Memory: Chapter Insert](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12601680) by [destielshipper_102](https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielshipper_102/pseuds/destielshipper_102), [sydtatum1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sydtatum1/pseuds/sydtatum1)




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